A Necessary Burden
by Andorian Ice Princess-AIP
Summary: AU After the events of 'Nobody's fault' Chase's father comes to see his son but when Chase wants him to stay and help his father tells him to fend for himself, forcing another would be father-figure to step up and help Chase with his recovery. But what does Rowan have planned? And how can Wilson help House help Chase? Based on eppy 8.11 'Nobody's Fault' CHAP 25 UP NOW
1. Going Home?

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
Chapter 1 - Going Home?**

**Summary:** AU After the events of 'Nobody's fault' Chase's father comes to see his son but when Chase wants him to stay and help his father tells him to fend for himself, forcing another would be father-figure to step up and help Chase with his recovery. Based on eppy 8.11 'Nobody's Fault'

**Disclaimer: ** House MD and its characters are not mine any of the OC's are mine (names taken from a random name generator) any resemblance to any of my readers is by pure coincidence.

**A/N:** wow first post of the new year is in a brand new fandom for us! This is my first attempt at a House fanfiction. A dear friend begged for this and I couldn't say no (hmm I might learn my lesson if the story is lame!) I don't write medical drama stuff typically but have always enjoyed the show, my fave character being Dr. Robert Chase (am addicted to Jesse Spencer hehe) so this is a Chase/House drama and yes Rowan Chase is still alive b/c well I LOVE angst lol so this is AU (alternate universe) but NO SLASH (please do not ask for that) it will be a Father/son/friendship theme. I hope you all like this attempt.

**Okay MF this is for you for the request and nudge and to Pallada for the help and encouragement!**

* * *

He looks at the young man lying motionless in the bed on the other side of the glass and feels his face morph into a heavy frown; his body starting to sag heavily onto the piece of manicured wood beneath his right hand. So young…so vulnerable…so…so alone. _Stabbed in the heart…nearly died…can't move legs…blood clot…successful removal…physiotherapy…hard work to get back to normal. My fault!_

"You know you can go inside the room if you'd like," the soft voice of the nurse instantly send's House's narrowed gaze from watching Dr. Chase to glaring at her as if she had just grown a third eye that he just noticed.

"How do you know I'm not just inspecting the glass!" House lightly snaps as he pulls away and starts to slowly head back down the quiet hallway. However not going too far, he waits until the pesky nurse has returned to her duties, leaving him to his. Inner guilt had started to consume him the moment Dr. Adams shrill voice was heard shouting that Chase had been stabbed by his patient. But it wasn't until Chase was alone; everyone else having gone home, that he felt intense remorse, loneliness and guilt starting to consume him.

_He's going to need a lot of help with the day to day stuff as he recovers._

"Good thing we have home care nurses for that," House huffs as he heads back to his office; wanting to get some paperwork done without the annoying interruptions that come during working hours. Just as he opens the last file Chase had been working on, his phone beeps with a new message, his eyes reading the few choice words and then narrowing.

_'Was it his fault? Rowan'_

"An obviously caring parent," House groans at the reply to his message that his son Robert had been stabbed by a patient. House leans back in his chair for a few moments, pondering a snarky comeback. But a few seconds later he's out of his chair and slowly heading back down the painfully familiar hallway, reaching Chase's room and this time hovering in the doorway. _Progress, _House's mind offers in silent sarcasm.

He looks at Chase's placid expression, offering a soft smirk at the rather boyish expression adorning his face as he sleeps in the rather large and uncomfortable bed. But as he looks at the monitors and knows the reason's Chase is in that bed in the first place, guilt starts to beat at him once more and he's forced to turn around without taking a step into forbidden territory.

"House."

The pleading tone was soft, almost a deft whisper but his ears could not mistake the all too familiar voice calling out his name; forcing him to freeze mid-stride. He grits his teeth and inwardly curses the fact that he nearly escaped emotionally unscathed but now might pay the price for his physical tardiness.

"Dr. Chase," House turns back, offering the formal greeting and hoping the young man gets the hint right off the bat that asking for favors is out of the question. He feels his entire frame seize as he nears the bed, looking at Chase with a heavy frown and hoping he have to stay long for fear he'll _want _to give in.

"No you cannot leave yet tonight."

"Glad you can see I'm preparing to run away right now," Chase replies back as he tries to swallow. "I just need a bit of water," he gestures to the fluid bag that had nearly gone dry and the empty cup on the small table beside the bed. "My throats dry."

"You can't drink."

"I just want to feel some inside my mouth."

"You can't."

"I can."

"You have a call button," House retorts and then backs down as he notices Chase's short lived elation drop to utter disappointment. "Hold on," he huffs as he turns and slowly heads toward the far end of the quiet recovery room. He fills up the cup and slowly ambles back, Chase trying to sit up a bit more but cursing the fact that his legs refuse to cooperate.

"You've just used up your three wishes," House smirks as he hands Chase the small cup. His eyes trail down Chase's blanket clad frame and rest on his legs as he tries to move them to a more comfortable position. "Better get on that physio or maybe you'll milk it as long as you can to get a few extra sponge baths?"

"Yes because I enjoy being a cripple!" Chase shouts and then quickly curses as he looks away; turning back to House with an angry expression that instantly turns apologetic. "House…oh go…"

"Just make sure you get on the recovery process as soon as possible. I'm too busy to interview right now," he replies in sarcasm as he turns to leave; Chase's head slumping back onto the pillow in remorseful frustration. He watches House disappear and then turns and looks at the clock and growls at the time, wishing more than anything that he could at least get up and walk around on his own. He thinks back a few seconds to his somewhat thoughtless remark in House's presence and can only growl at himself angrily.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in sorrow.

Chase allows his somewhat watery blue eyes to wander around the dimly lit recovery room and starts to feel his loneliness weighing a bit heavier upon his weary shoulders. He'd have to spend a few more days on the monitors and then…home…in a wheelchair? Would anyone be there to help? _ I don't need help, _he inwardly insists. For a few seconds he considers calling his father; knowing that what the man lacks for in paternal affection, he makes up for in monetary compensation. Maybe daddy could get me a private housekeeper?

Crawling back to his father just for a few bucks cash to appease his own personal misery is the last thing he wants so with a heavy sigh he flips off the small overhead light and tries to settle back down; his mind determined to book the first follow-up appointment as soon as he's able; wanting to see how everything inside is healing and praying it's on target.

"Well that's a bust," House mutters as he closes the last file and prepares to leave, the reply message to Chase's father still blank as he wasn't able to come up with something that didn't include several choice expletives or a very harsh reply for which he's sure there'd be some repercussions.

"Poor kids been through enough," House mutters as he flips off the small light, bathing his office in darkness and turning his phone off; instantly killing the open reply message. He heads back down toward Chase's recovery room, wanting to make sure the nurse had replenished his fluid bag before heading home for the night for good.

"Good help is hard to find," House groans as he snaps the empty bag free of its clip and quietly makes his way toward the garbage can; wondering who had hired the nurse in the first place. But his mind is too distracted with wondering about the neglectful nurse that he fails to see a dark figure enter the room and near Chase's bed.

With the refill in his hand, House turns back and stops short. "Rowan," he hisses under his breath as he notices Chase's father hesitate before actually reaching out to touch his sleeping son and then quickly pull back and remain rigid.

"You don't need an enchanted kiss to wake him," House offers in a quiet tone as he nears the bed; Chase's eyes quickly fluttering open and looking first at House and then at the other man hovering close by.

"Dr. Chase?" The youngest male Chase member greets in surprise.

_Dr. Chase? _House's mind groans. _What happened to hello daddy?_

"Hello Robert," Rowan Chase greets his son a bit stiffly as he leans in a bit closer, seeming to inspect his son's chest wound. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine sir…father I…" Chase lightly stammers as he looks up at House; his warm blue eyes almost begging for some help. But this time none would be found.

"Well…this is filled back up," House hangs up the fluid bag and reattaches the clip leading into Chase's vein and steps back. "Goodnight."

"Dr. House," Rowan calls after House, forcing him to stop and turn back with a terse expression. "Anything else _you _want to tell me about this?"

"_Your _son's awake…ask him," House gestures with his head toward Chase's crestfallen expression; offering the young man a small frown before turning and leaving the area completely; disappearing from view. But allowing his curiosity to win out; House ducks behind a heavy curtain, hidden from view but within earshot.

"Dr. House left before he could tell me who was to blame for all this."

"I'm fine thanks for asking," Chase replies in sarcasm as he looks away.

"Want to tell me what happened? Your version?"

"Short story…I brought the wrong instruments into the room and was stabbed for my troubles."

"You did. You're lucky you weren't suspended for this."

"Are you serious?" Chase looks up in shock, his throat trying to swallow back an angry lump of emotion. "I nearly died yesterday and all you want to know if this was my fault? Fine…yes I brought this on myself…I wanted to get stabbed and nearly die all so that I could put to use the medical facilities I work for. Is that want you want to hear?"

"Don't get smart with me Robert, that's not like you," Rowan chides as he looks down at his son with a small glare. "I can see you have gone through quite the ordeal; what I would like to know is who's really responsible for you nearly dying."

"ME!" Chase shouts and then quickly lowers his voice as another recovering patient a few beds down utters a moan. "Who told you about this?"

"Dr. House. He told me you were stabbed in a medical altercation. What he failed to tell me that my son's foolhardy actions led to his…"

"I can't walk."

"What?"

"I can't…walk…well right now. I mean I will but I'm not fully…I just can't...right now," Chase utters with a small sniffle as his eyes water. House hears the torment in Chase's tone and feels his own stomach tighten and frown increase. "Does it matter now who's to blame?"

"It might. If you want to pre…"

"Does it!" Chase demands in heated anger.

"No I suppose it doesn't."

From behind the curtain, House listens to the silence grow and wants more than anything to walk into the room and pummel the elder Chase with his cane; wanting to yell at him that all his son wants is some paternal affection in a very tough time and to take him home and help with his recovery. But that wasn't to come, either scenario. _I still want to hit him._

"Are you going to stay?" Chase asks weakly; his tone more that of a helpless child than an established doctor. But the hint of hope is quickly killed by his father's curt reply.

"Stay? Robert I can't stay you know that. Why would I stay?"

"Right…why _would_ you," Chase replies with a teary gaze as he merely nods and swallows.

"No need to be emotional about it," Rowan fires back; forcing House to grit his teeth behind his carefully concealed hiding place. "You'll start to recover and then go to physio and then…I can't walk for you now can I? Course if you need me to hire a…"

"A what? A chauffeur!" Chase snaps before he settles back down. "I don't need a damn chauffeur, I want my father to help me after I nearly died. I can't walk and I don't want an impersonal housekeeper."

"You want someone personal to wait on you while you wallow around in a wheelchair? Is that it?" Rowan snaps.

"I was hoping you had come here to help me. Willingly."

"Still clinging to false hopes I see," Rowan sighs as House narrows his gaze behind the curtain. "How could I help you? You are surrounded by people paid to do that. I can't have another…"

"Am I only a burden to you? I want your…" Chase asks suddenly, forcing Rowan to stiffen in his small chair and look at his son with a somewhat cross expression.

"You sound like a whiny child right now. You are a grown man. You were dealt a setback by it seems your own doing…"

"So I make a mistake, nearly die and now I just have to pay for it with no…"

"You aren't paralyzed."

"I want you to stay," Chase lightly begs; his sorrowful gaze locking with his father's hardened one. "Please…please father…please stay," Chase begs, his lost voice forcing House's eyes to want to mist.

"I'll get you a housekeeper."

"Housekeeper?" Chase stammers.

"You expect me to stay and play nurse maid to you? Am sure you'd prefer a woman over me."

"I want you to…"

"Just tell me what you need me to take care of."

_Him you idiot! _House's mind inwardly groans. _He wants you to take care of him! I really want to hit him now._

"I thought it would be obvious," Chase softly sighs. "Me."

"I'm not a maid but I can get…"

"Funny how I've always known your bank account better than even your favorite color. What is it by the way?"

"I see you need more rest. I'll send the housekeep…"

"I don't want one. I don't want your money."

"Well that's a first," Rowan retorts in sarcasm.

"Guess I've grown up."

"Call me if you change your mind," Rowan states as he slowly pushes himself up from the bed; Chase watching with a morose expression.

"Yes sir…" Chase whispers as he watches his father leave and then mutters an angry curse; turning his head away from the opening as his eyes water and a few soft tears slowly escape the corners of his tightly squeezed eyes and come to rest on the pillow. He turns back to the empty space and shakes his head; House remaining in place behind the curtain with his phone in hand; pulled and ready to call back Rowan Chase and if need browbeat him into helping his only son. But he knows that when it comes to anything remotely family related, Rowan Chase could not be blackmailed by guilt; he just didn't care as evidenced by his history with the Chase family; Robert especially.

_Sir? More like dumbass…oh damn it Chase…_

The next sounds of soft whimpers start to tug on House's heart strings forcing him to slightly bow his head and for a few seconds ponder going up to the young aussie's bed and offering him a kind sentiment in the wake of that emotionally devastating reunion; that he's now partly to blame for. I have to make this right. _He'd call it pity and you refuse to pity him…how about compassion? You can show him that right? _His brain suggests. _Tomorrow._

Wanting to just drown out Chase's anguished sniffles, House pulls away from the curtain and slowly heads down the opposite hallway; Chase's remorseful expression haunting his every hobbled step. _Damn you Rowan…why'd you even bother coming if you didn't really care and if you knew in advance you didn't really want to help? _As he steps into the cool night air, House turns back and looks up at the floor that Chase is currently situated on and frowns heavily. _It's just not right…all he wanted was a little fatherly reassurance and now…now he has to face this all alone. Are you sure alone?_

"He'll be fine," House tries to convince himself as he heads for home, still muttering angry words at Rowan for so callously dismissing his son's current plight as a consequence of an action that wasn't calculated correctly. He enters his quiet apartment and looks around…a wheelchair would easily get around if he…he could…_wait…you're pondering bringing Chase here? Really? You?_

"Yeah…bad idea," House mutters to himself as he flips off the light and heads for his bedroom; his mind closing out the long day with the possibility of bringing the young man home until he was at least out of the chair and mobile. _A few days at most…to hell with his father. _I won't do it. _James did it for you…_damn it!

XXXXXXXX

Early the next morning Chase hears some soft shuffling and looks up to see House watching him. "Morning," he lightly croaks as he tries to quickly brush away a soft tear and swallow back any rising emotion. "Here to tell me I'm late?" He quips with a soft smirk.

"Yes now get your ass out of that bed and get to your clinic rounds," House deadpans as he takes a few steps closer. "Sleep well?"

"Not really," Chase replies with a strained tone and small cough. "Who can sleep in these places right?"

"At least your sense of humor is intact."

"Can't take a pill to cure that."

But when House doesn't respond further Chase turns back to see the older man looking down at him with an inspecting gaze. "What?"

"I'll get the nurse to fix this," House merely replies as he turns on his heel and starts leaves the room; Chase shaking his head and wanting nothing more than to get out of bed and throttle House with his two hands.

"House…"

"She'll be here soon."

As the nurse comes in to recheck his vitals, Chase can only lie there miserably and replay the whole sordid reunion with his father from the night before. _Why did he even come…he knew he wasn't going to help…a housekeeper…I don't want his money…I just want…him…I don't want to face this alone._

The day passes by with horrible slowness for Chase as the others stop by to briefly chat but then go about their professional duties and then head home to their other lives; leaving him behind stuck in a smaller but private recovery room at Princeton-Plainsboro.

"My staying here another night was your doing," Chase states more than questions when House's reflection appears in the window; Chase's gaze fixed upon the very familiar silhouette.

"The night nurse needs practice and you need supervision," House replies in haste as he pulls Chase's chart and looks at it with interest.

"I'll live if that's what you're seeking. Has my father called you again?"

"Should he have?"

"He would press you for details on this since I never gave him any. Who did they say was to blame?"

"Is that relevant?" House counters.

"It is to me."

"Well then you need sleep; when you wake up it won't be. Goodnight."

"Damn you House just tell me!"

"You want to hear me say you're to blame then fine…"

"Say it! I want to hear you say it!" Chase demands as he glares at House with a heated expression.

"Ask me again tomorrow."

Chase can only grit his teeth as he watches House take his leave, his thumb pushing down on the call button before he utters an angry curse and House pops his head back into the room for a few brief seconds.

"I broke that one...on purpose. See you tomorrow."

Chase tosses the useless device onto the table and then looks down at his feet, willing them to just push the covers back and enable him to bolt for the door. His hands yank the blanket free; his brain inwardly yelling at his legs to swing over the edge and land on the floor. But he miscalculates his actions and ends up tumbling onto the floor, the tubing pulling free and the small rollaway table going crashing into the wall; his lips uttering a painful gasp as his recently operated on body starts to throb.

With an angry curse, Chase rolls onto his right side, praying for his knees to fold in front and allow him to just naturally push himself upright and get back to bed on his own. They don't.

"I can do…this," he grumbles as he tries to fight back a set of strong, supportive hands; finally looking up at House in shock.

"What are you doing on the floor in the first place," House grumbles as he tries to get Chase to at seated position. "Stop fighting me."

"I don't need…your help!" Chase snaps, forcing House to pull back and allow his frame to flop back down. Chase looks up with a narrowed gaze as House's arms fold across his chest.

"Fine. Clean that spot while you're at it."

"You'd leave me here?"

"You said you didn't need help."

Chase quickly grabs the side-rail of the bed just as the nurse rushes into the room only to be quickly shooed away by House.

"The sponge bath can wait."

"What do you want? To laugh at me like this? See what happens to those that defy you?"

"I don't enjoy laughing."

"Fine you get off on seeing me like this?"

"Crude but no this doesn't turn me on."

"What do you want then?" Chase demands in exasperation.

"For the record," House groans as he offers Chase's protesting hand a small swat and continues to help hoist him back into bed. "I am taking no delight in seeing you like this."

"You like…"

"Enough talk now…now it's time to rest," House insists as he pulls the blanket over Chase's frame once he's back in the small hospital bed; to which Chase pushes it away in defiance. "You can go home and rest tomorrow; if I say so."

"You're not…"

"Actually I am. Goodnight. This time for real."

Chase grits his teeth as he hears House telling the nurse that Chase needs his rest and isn't to be disturbed until the floor is on fire. _He's done more than your father so far, _his brain reminds him. _No he hasn't…_Chase tries to argue back.

"I'm stuck here," Chase verbally groans as he turns his head and looks out the window into the inky night sky; finally succumbing to the darkness and failing to see someone slip back into the room and pull the blanket back over his slightly shivering frame, whispering goodnight before disappearing until morning.

XXXXXXXX

To say he spent the next two days in contemplative misery was an understatement; House keeping everyone busy and Chase isolated and lonely. By the end of the week he's told he can finally go home and finish the rest of his recuperation there. Near the end of the day, Chase's eyes start to dart between the door and the clock nearly every five minutes; having called for a wheel chair just after lunch and being told one excuse or another as to the delay. Now it was almost dinner time.

"Surely it can't be delayed again?" Chase groans as a nurse walks by the hospital room. He would be going home tonight and the day after tomorrow was told his heart would have to get some solid rest; no real physical exertion for at least a few weeks and then if he was so allowed would be strong enough for him to start a very mild physiotherapy routine. The first set would see him working to strengthen his legs with some sitting exercises and then after that if he could, starting on the walking bars. The recovery process would be slow and frustrating and he didn't wish it on anyone; least of all a young man with a bright future ahead of him, like himself.

"That is if I can ever leave this damn place," Chase growls in a loud tone as he pauses and listens to the familiar squeak drawing closer. "It's about ti…" his words die out as a nurse rounds the corner with a wheelchair; House in tow. "Thanks for the escort but I can manage on my own," Chase remarks dryly as he pushes aside the nurse's attempts at helping him and manages to get himself into the hospital wheelchair and then looks up at the two people before him. "I'll sign the papers and be on my way."

Without missing a beat, House hands him a clipboard with his release documentation on it; watching as Chase signs it and then handing it to the nurse and sending her on her way. House steps back and allows Chase to push himself out of the room, heading toward the elevator.

"I don't need an escort," Chase huffs as he slowly wheels himself into the elevator and presses the G button, wanting to get to the ground level, get into a handicapped cap and just get home. _And then what? Wallow? _His brain jeers. Maybe for a day, Chase inwardly retorts.

"Any visitors today?"

"My father would sooner go to the bedside of a dying criminal than spend any more personal time with his own son. But you know that already don't you," Chase answers bitterly. They exit the elevator and head for the main exit doors; Chase spying a handicapped bus waiting by the door.

"Your chariot awaits," House states lightly, frowning when Chase doesn't retort back. "Extra bumps for this ride," House tells the driver to which he looks at House in shock and then down at Chase for an explanation as to the comment making fun of someone handicapped.

"He meant that for him not me."

"I'm getting back at him for the cripple comment," House looks at Chase and then the driver.

"He's coming too?" The clueless driver wonders.

"Uh no sorry…point missed," Chase frowns as he slowly wheels himself inside, not bothering to see House climbing in the bus behind him. It's not until the bus pulls away and Chase fails to see House heading back inside the entrance to Princeton-Plainsboro that he twists his head around to see House seated in the front of the bus.

"I never liked the back of the bus," House mentions matter of factly.

"I told you I don't need..."

"Give the driver a break, he's just doing his job," House retorts as he offers the poor bus driver a shrug and then turns back to see Chase slump back in defeat.

"Uh…this isn't…I live on the other side of the…" Chase calls out in agitation as he tries to turn himself around; the wheels getting stuck between the seat rows and rendering him helpless.

"You better get to walking soon, you suck at working that."

"Sorry to disappoint. Driver?"

"He knows where to go," House interjects in haste.

About ten minutes later Chase looks up in surprise to see another familiar establishment come in to view. "House?"

"Perfect, thank you," House thanks the driver and then stands up and walks toward the back of Chase's wheelchair. "You'll hafta help me out here."

"I'm not staying here."

"Well you're not going home alone either. Want me to take you back to the hospital? Or perhaps a shelter for the recently medically released? Maybe daddy can spring for room service at some swanky but impersonal hotel that could rent rooms by the hour?" House asks firmly as he looks down with an unwavering glare.

Realizing it was pointless to argue and not really wanting to go to a strange place alone, Chase merely shakes his head in defeat and thanks the driver, slowly pushing himself off the exit ramp and heading toward the front entrance to House's apartment building; House following behind. They enter in silence, heading for the elevator and riding up to House's floor without speaking a word.

"Look I don't want…"

"To face this alone, I know that. Am I right? Of course I am, that was rhetorical," House answers in haste, his words making Chase's face finally relax and a soft smile to caress his face. "Hungry?"

"Sure. Why did…" Chase replies with a heavy sigh, forcing House to pause in his tracks and look back in wonder. "It's nothing."

"I told your father because I thought he'd want to…"

"Step up and actually show me some fatherly affection? Hasn't yet but maybe me nearly getting killed might do the trick?"

"Something like that," House admits with a small nod.

"For a few brief seconds I thought that might happen also, but as soon as he spoke I knew it wasn't to be. He doesn't care."

"So I witnessed," House purses his lips; looking down at the young man before him in his tormented and rather helpless situation and feels heart sink. "So…dinner…"

"Look I don't want to be a burden. I'll just sta…"

"You are staying here until you can get up and walk out on your own. No point in arguing back," House states firmly but in a kind tone.

"I won't be walking very soon."

"The more you rest the faster you can leave here. End of discussion."

"Very well," Chase nods as he starts to pull off his jacket. He looks around the apartment and then down at the wheelchair and back up; noticing things had been moved to accommodate something the size of the apparatus he's in. Chase folds his jacket and places it on the nearest chair and then slowly moves himself toward the kitchen, already feeling tired from the day's events and wanting nothing more than to just get into whatever bed would be his and sleep without the sound of alarms, sirens or monitors going off every few minutes.

"Where will I be staying?"

"Third door down the hall…on the right," House directs as he looks at the items in the fridge turning back to see Chase wheeling himself out of the room.

Chase enters the modestly furnished room and then frowns as he notices a few rather familiar looking things; a few personal photographs, some clothing and…his shaving kit from his apartment. _What? _Chase's mind starts to contemplate as he realizes that part of the delay in his release was House getting this room ready for him to stay in. _He did all this? For me? Really?_

House waits a few minutes and then as quietly as he can, gets into the hallway and carefully follows, waiting for Chase to enter the sparse spare bedroom and look around. He decides to give the young man some extra privacy as he now wonders how Chase will fare having a shower on his own tomorrow. _I'll get a bathing chair from the hospital…oh like they'll care one is missing, _his mind ponders as his phone buzzes to life with a new text message.

House quickly reaches for it and then narrows his gaze once again at the name on the screen: _'Rowan Chase.'_

"What now?" He grumbles as he opens the next message.

_'Nobody's fault? Where is my son?'_

_'He entered rehab tonight. Goodbye.'_

_Where? Not how is my son? Could have at least asked how he is! _"Insensitive bastard," House curses as he puts the phone down and goes in search of his new houseguest; ignoring the incoming call. He reaches the room, frowning at the silence before he pokes his head around the corner and frowns as he sees Chase trying once again to get himself up off the floor and onto the bed.

"You tried this charade earlier and failed. Lemme guess…you're an unemployed mop?"

"Funny," Chase deadpans as House takes a step forward. "I'm fine."

"Actually I came to check up on my floor," House shoots back, earning a frustrated glare from Chase. "You're lying."

"I don't need help."

"Yes you do…but this time you have to ask."

Chase looks up at House and once again sees the same caring concern he had in the hospital; a once fleeting moment a few days ago, now a lingering visual gesture. _Maybe he really does care. _And in that moment the words that Dr. Cofield had said to him in the recovery bed started to make even more sense and sound down further than he had first acknowledged.

_"So…Dr. House's complete lack of concern is evidence of his deep concern?" _In that moment Chase had nodded yes; to others it might have escaped their notice, but to him…having known House for so long it was now more and more obvious. Now asking for help felt comforting; especially knowing it was being offering willingly.

"Please?" Chase lightly begs for help after a few moments of silence; House not able to refuse this time as he steps in and helps hoist Chase onto the double bed in a seated position. "I just want to rest."

"Take your time, I gotta unthaw…something," House smirks as he picks up Chase's phone off the floor and looks at the picture on the display; obviously one uploaded from before of Chase and his father; Chase looking even younger and more innocent than he does now.

"What was the verdict?"

"Nobody's fault. They decided the stabbing was nobody's fault, but um…they were wrong. I'm sorry."

Chase looks up at the rare moment of regret and torment in House's eyes and feels himself nodding in acknowledgement. Chase leans back on the bed and reaches for the blanket, covering his legs and then looking at House with a somewhat defeated expression.

"So this is guilt then?"

"Guilt…pity…I was bored…make up whatever excuse you want. What I tell you won't matter now will it?"

"You told me the truth about the ruling."

"No I didn't, I spared your feelings. Someone was to blame they were just too stupid to see it," House huffs as he looks at Chase with a heavy frown.

"So I was partly to blame?"

"Partly? Why not. So then maybe this is guilt…maybe this is pity…maybe it's to get back at your father…or maybe it's because I actually do give a damn."

"Really?"

"Really. I didn't want you facing this alone. I've been here…there…you…facing this alone and it sucks," he states point blank. "I didn't want that for you."

"Thank you," Chase counters with a surprised but relieved tone.

"And for the record you are a burden…" House pauses in the doorway as he offers the younger man a rather cryptic smile, "a necessary burden," he concludes softly as Chase's lips curl into the first small but genuine smile of the day.

**THE END? or...**

* * *

**A/N:** Well how was it? lame? good? Do you want more?I really hope they were in character and you liked this even a little. I wasn't sure anyone would want more so I left it here but if you do then please let me know in your reveiw and I hope you all liked this and please do review before you go and let me know what you thought. Thanks so much!


	2. A Tough Adjustment

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 2 – A Tough Adjustment **

**A/N: **Thanks so much to everyone for the amazing and encouraging feedback, it gave me enough courage to try to write you all a second chapter to this as we continue Chase's angsty journey.

* * *

A strange feeling of déjà vu starts to slowly wrap its arms around him as he stands quietly in the darkened doorway and peers into the quiet bedroom, watching the young man in the single bed softly sleeping; his face at rest and contented sounds gently escaping his slightly parted lips. He had only picked at his dinner and House couldn't have expected more from Chase after all he had been through. _Uprooted from his lonely apartment and wondering if daddy had officially disowned him to living with a man who blows hot and cold more often than the wind, _House mind's growls as he flips off the light, bathing the hallway in darkness and then turns on the small nightlight in case his guest needed to use the bathroom down the hall.

House slowly walks toward his bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar and uttering an angry growl as his phone buzzes again. "Oh what does he want now?" He snaps as he reaches for the phone and looks at Rowan's name in anger.

_'Where is my son? The clerk said they saw him leave with you today.'_

"Maybe he's avoiding you," House mutters as he deletes the message and starts to get ready for bed; wondering if Rowan would finally just take the hint and go away, back to the black hole he came out from or actually step up and reclaim his paternal role. However, House now worries that Rowan will just try to get Chase back on his own turf with the paid housekeeper so that he could keep his lame father of the year title intact.

"More like dumbass father of the year," House mutters to himself as he flips off the light and whispers a 'goodnight' into the air.

The following morning House opens his eyes, a frown creasing his face as he hears some grunting and movement in the kitchen; making him toss back the covers and slowly hobble toward the kitchen rounding the corner and looking at Chase trying to get something well out of his reach.

"The place is only half Chase friendly," House states as he snatches his cane back from Chase's grasp. "You break it you bought it."

"I wanted coffee."

"I left a packet of instant on the counter for a reason."

"I want _real _coffee," Chase looks up with a small pout.

"You pout really well. If I were a girl I'd fall for it," House looks down without smiling before he turns and heads for the kettle and presses the button to boil it.

"You drink real coffee. And you are up so…"

"So why not indulge us both," House mentions slowly as he turns around and looks at Chase with an inspecting gaze.

"What?" Chase inquires as he starts to feel a little self-conscious under House's lingering glare.

"You look tired. Didn't sleep well?"

"I slept fine," Chase tries to offer in his defense. "Just…"

"Not the same smell of you…you fall asleep to. I forgot your pillow."

"Did my father call?" Chase asks suddenly.

House looks at the expectant boyish expression on the young man before him and frowns; his mind now waging an internal war over what to tell him. A lie would hurt at first but be expected; the truth would linger but be surprising.

"No calls," House offers swiftly as he pushes the on button on the coffee maker out of Chase's reach and then turns and pushes past. "I'll get you a bathing chair fro…"

"I can manage on my own."

"They won't miss _one_ chair," House retorts as he disappears from the room.

Chase waits until he hears the door close and then wheels himself into the hallway and picks up the phone, looking at the list button and pressing it to see if anyone did call; House's cell phone not within striking distance. With a small cloud of disappointment starting to cover him, Chase slowly heads back into the kitchen and stares miserably up at the coffee maker, trying to move himself as close as he can and then struggling to reach it with his right hand as his left tries to keep him hoisted in the air.

However, his strength, not being what it was before the stabbing, gives way, causing him to slump back down and his elbow to hit the edge of the counter; a heavy wince adorning his face and a curse escaping his lips.

"And maybe I'll get Bruno to bring the chair," House announces as he reenters the kitchen just as Chase looks up with a painful expression.

"You're serious? I don't need help. I can get from this one to…"

"The floor? Yeah you've mastered that one. Wonder if I can tie you to that chair in the meantime."

"I don't need help. You get the chair and I can try on my own."

"Okay but if you make a mess I'm calling Bruno," House lightly threatens.

"Who is Bruno?"

"You want a woman? Can't have one."

"I can have…"

"Nope…you have to wait for the chair."

"I don't want to feel useless," Chase groans as he pulls back and allows House to get the coffee cup as he heads for the table and waits; his back to house and his eyes looking out the window. "This all feels…so wrong. And I know it sounds stupid to say but it does. I look down at my legs…willing them to move and they…won't."

"Bummer," House replies as Chase twists his head to look at him in surprise. "Give it time," he adds in a softer tone. "You just got released yesterday. You'll rest and then go to rehab and then be back to chasing the nurses around the ward in no time," House finishes with a small smirk, making Chase's frown lessen. "In the meantime…no long distance calls to China."

"China?"

"Yeah they have cheap Geisha's by…"

"That would be Japan not China."

"Everything's made in China," House huffs as he takes his cup and leaves the room; leaving Chase alone as he goes to get ready for the day.

Chase offers a small snicker at House's lame joke, takes his half-drunk cup of coffee and slowly wheels himself into the living room and looks out the window with a small miserable stare; wondering what he'd do all day long – alone. He knew there was no way House would stay home and babysit him and he wouldn't want that in truth. _I want to get better, _chase inwardly moans.

He hears some shuffling behind and twists his head to see House watching him in silence. "I feel useless."

"You are…in a medical sense," House quips as Chase turns around to finally face him. "No wild parties while I'm out."

"Yes sir," Chase replies with a soft smile, making House's face frown. "Old habits."

"Behave while I'm at work," House states softly as he turns to leave, Chase watching him go and then hearing the door close and slumping back into his wheelchair with a frustrated huff.

"Well…I can't just…do nothing…" he sighs as he heads back into the kitchen and places the cup on the counter, frowning at the height and realizing that he couldn't even reach the sink or the stove to make himself feel useful. "I can order in supper?" He muses to himself as he pulls back and starts to slowly snoop around the somewhat spacious apartment, heading for the TV and turning it on to keep the tormented silence at bay. _A few days of this and I just might jump, _he inwardly snickers as he makes his way toward the bathroom. It had been a few days and he was given his clearance to have a shower, the stitching all but dissolved and his body just wanting to feel warm water all over it.

He looks at the shower stall and then at the chair and realizes that it will fit…but. "If I get this wet then…" _wait for House to bring the proper bathing chair, _his mind reminds him before he wheel's a bit closer and then stops. "Better wait…" he sighs as he turns and leaves the bathroom and heads back toward the bedroom; looking at the bag of clothing and putting his mind into the next seemingly arduous task – getting dressed.

XXXXXXXX

House nears the door to his office and stops short as he notices the shadow of someone on the wall and then slightly peers around the corner and curses at the figure of Rowan Chase waiting for him. _Can I get him arrested for trespassing? _But not wanting to deal with the pesky elder Dr. Chase right now, House quickly spins on his heel and tries to escape. Foreman impedes that progress.

"House!" Foreman calls out, instantly drawing Rowan's attention and forcing House to grit his teeth but keep going.

"When will he be back?" Rowan lightly demands of Foreman.

"I didn't even know when he got here…sorry," Foreman offers with a small frown and shrug as he pulls his phone and calls House.

"I'm busy leav…"

_"Are you avoiding Dr. Chase?"_

"Which one?" House snaps as he hangs up and then looks back down the hallway, thankful when he sees Rowan heading for the elevators and disappearing inside the large steel box. Thinking he's escaped him, House heads a friendly face and quickly arranges someone he trusts to take the bathing chair to Chase and help him with whatever he needs. _Am sure he'll love me for this, _House snickers inwardly as he finally heads back to his office to get his day officially started.

As soon as he enters his office he spies a piece of paper on his desk and quickly reaches for it.

_'I have the right to see my son.'_

"So you can browbeat him or ask if he's to blame? Not on my watch," House grumbles to himself as he wads up the note into a small ball and tosses the crumpled mass into the garbage before slumping down into his chair and looking at the time. _I wonder what mischief my wombat has gotten himself into._

XXXXXXXX

"Damn…" Chase curses as he lies on the floor on his back, his left hand gingerly touching his face and his freshly cut lip offering a curse as he slumps back down and looks at the object of his misery; his stomach rebelling at the coppery taste from his own blood slowly trickling down his throat. He had wanted to make himself something for lunch and thought that he'd be able to get a few items in the pantry. But once again he had misjudged his legs at the same time he was reaching for the soup tins, only to have his legs give way, his body crash to the floor and the tins on top of him, one catching him on the left side of his face and the other on his left shoulder.

Chase's hands try to grab the legs of the wheelchair to get himself at least mobile but all he ends up doing is pushing it further away and forcing himself to call out in anger. He crawls back toward the chair but then pauses as he hears the door handle starting to jiggle. _House is checking up on me? That's not like him._

Chase tries to get to the wheelchair, hearing the strange sounds in the hallway and wanting to call the police, knowing he'd be useless in a fight and cursing his own inability to actually do anything but call for help. His hands finally grip the side of the wheelchair as it had braced itself up against the wall and manages to get himself halfway up into the chair and reach for the phone when a large, dark figure appears in the doorway. The two of them uttering a gasp as their eyes lock.

"Dr. Chase?" The large but soft spoken black man asks with a frown.

"Bloody hell…who are you?" Chase demands as he holds up the phone and looks at the stranger with a strained expression.

"Dr. House sent me…I'm Bruno."

"Bruno? I thought….he sent you? But I…"

"Thought he'd send a female nurse?" Bruno smirks and Chase's arm relaxes and slowly lowers the phone.

"No sorry I thought he was joking. How did you get in?"

"He gave me the spare key. He came to see me today and asked for me specifically to help you."

"Help me? Really? Are you…straight?"

"Hell yes I am. Are you?" Bruno asks in haste as Chase finally nods and smiles, placing the phone back on its cradle. "I was just told to bring…" Bruno's voice trails off as he disappears into the hallway and then reappears with the plastic, hospital-issued bathing chair, "this for you."

Chase looks at the chair and then up at Bruno, wondering if the chair was perhaps rigged or…_House wouldn't…he cares, he just can't show it very well, _his brain reminds him. "He said I'd be less distracting."

"He's the genius…" Chase mutters dryly as leans back fully in the chair and then retouches his throbbing cheek.

"What happened?"

"Attacked by a flying soup can; but I'm okay. So what now?"

"You want a shower?"

"I uh…" Chase stammers as he looks down at his limp legs; still clad in his pajamas and then back up with a small frown. "Shower," he states more than asks.

"You don't need to be embarrassed," Bruno replies lightly. "I promise this won't make my Facebook highlights."

"Well thank you. Um…sure," Chase frowns as he remains in place before pulling away a few seconds later and heading down the hall to his quiet bedroom, plucking a few fresh items and then heading back into the hallway and down toward the spare bathroom. He watches Bruno arrange the chair inside the shower and slowly starts to remove his t-shirt before Bruno's hands start to help. Chase at first stiffens when Bruno tries to help him with his sweatpants and then looks at Bruno with a heavy frown.

"I'm not used to…maybe this is not a goo…"

"Hey I'm not here to judge…just to help. I mean it's odd because I've seen you well…you know walking around the ER and such but I'm just here to help okay? Please don't make me go back to Dr. House and say I failed."

Knowing he'd be the reason Bruno would get into trouble Chase knows he has no choice; in reality not wanting to get Bruno in trouble and his body begging for some strong hands to help him in and out of the bathing chair. The gentle giant finally wins over Chase; Chase giving him a nod and allowing Bruno to help him with his sweatpants and then boxers and then help hoist his naked frame into the cold plastic bathing chair and step out.

"Okay you can reach whatever you need and I'll be back when the water stops. But I'll leave the door open if…"

"I fall out of this?"

"Yeah that's it," Bruno replies with a soft smile.

"Fair enough and…thank you."

"Dr. House…he's an odd duck," Bruno smirks as he goes to take his leave. "I mean he's taken you in and all and…and it's just odd because he's so…"

"Callous in everyday life?" Chase concludes as he reaches for the hot water, earning a nod from Bruno in return.

"He cares about you. That's kinda cool."

Bruno takes his leave, Chase quickly turning on the hot water to keep the few oncoming shivers at bay. A few minutes later, his body completely relaxes in the now warmed chair, his hands gently washing away all the hospital residue and his mind replaying his brief conversation with Bruno and how the quiet orderly had noticed House's understated concern for Chase even though Chase knows House would deny his caring concern openly. His mind now starts to ponder his father's offer of a paid housekeeper versus House just getting him one because he knew he'd need help and wasn't going to ask.

Chase turns off the water and reaches for the nearby towel, drying himself off as much as he could and then allowing Bruno to do the rest, his initial discomfort all but dissipated and allowing his body to relax and be helped into something clean and dry to wear.

"Do you need anything else before I leave?" Bruno wonders as they slowly head back into the kitchen about an hour and a bit later.

"I wanted some lunch but nothing's within reach," Chase huffs as he looks at the pantry items. Bruno collects a few things and helps to rearrange the items on the top and putting them within Chase's reaching distance, cleaning up the spill that caused the wheelchair to lose control and then looking at Chase with a friendly smile. "Thank you."

"So when do you want me back?"

"I…what? You mean…"

"Dr. House said I could come as often as you needed," Bruno relays in truth as Chase looks at him with a surprised expression. "He's funny to read that one."

"Tell me about it," Chase huffs as he pulls his phone. "I hate to think of you…"

"Every day…second day…third day?"

"Second day? I…I'm sorry, it's not you. This is all just so…"

"You know what I used to do before I got this job?"

"No idea sorry."

"Linebacker…college football."

"Really."

"Yeah. Coulda gone pro. But just before tryouts, I popped both my knees and ended whatever pro career I thought I might have had. After that I knew I was finished. I only had the grades to play football…wasn't good for much else….you know being a doctor and all," Bruno tosses out lightly, making Chase's face soften. "But I was told about the orderly program and knew I could be useful once again. It's some lifting…but light guys like you," he chuckles. "Better than having your body slammed by three hundred pounds on a regular basis."

"Can't imagine," Chase replies. "Well thank you…this will make things a lot less frustrating."

"Here's my contact information," Bruno hands Chase a small piece of paper. "Dr. House gave me the spare key."

"That's fine. I'll text you."

Chase slowly follows Bruno to the door and then locks it when he's gone, wheeling back to the kitchen and looking at the items that Bruno had laid out in his reach. But just before he can start into making a sandwich his phone buzzes to life.

_'Enjoy the sponge bath?'_

_'Yes Brenda was quiet delightful.'_

_'Lying will earn you a spanking.'_

Chase smirks as House's cheeky reply just before he puts his phone away and then goes back about his simple task of making a sandwich and then heading back into his bedroom about an hour later for a late nap; his body more than wanting to just shut down and get as much rest as possible.

A few hours later, Chase slowly opens his eyes and looks at the time, realizing that he's slept longer than he should and hears some noise in the kitchen, groaning as he wanted to have something ordered by the time House got home to show his appreciation for taking him in.

"So can I call you Wheels?" House smirks as he notices Chase enter the room out of the corner of his eye but doesn't fully turn around.

"I was going to order in…just to say thank you," Chase offers weakly as he turns and heads for the table, wanting to at least set out the cutlery and napkins.

"Say thank you tomorrow. How was Brenda?"

"She was a bit larger than I expected."

"And harrier…" House quips. "Did you two get friendly?"

"It was…uncomfortable at first," Chase huffs as he finally turns around and looks up at House with a small shrug. "It was…"

"He hit you?" House gestures to the small bruise on Chase's left cheek and cut on his lip as he nears.

"No…I did this to myself…trying to get a soup tin from…what?"

"You…it's shiny."

"What is?"

"Your face and I don't think you're wearing makeup. Unless that was that reflective mascara that…" his voice trails off as Chase watches him leave the kitchen and then return with a small first aid kid in his grasp.

"It's fine. I just…" Chase's hand starts to reach up toward the bruise only to have House once again swat it away.

"Don't move," House orders, causing Chase to just purse his lips and sit still as commanded. "You just…" he uses a pair of tweezers to pull out a small metal fleck and then starts to clean with some cool disinfectant; the stinging liquid forcing Chase's face to wince. "Sorry," House mutters in an undertone.

"Bruno was fine. He just…wasn't what I expected."

"Well I wasn't going to send a girl."

"Course not," Chase agrees in sarcasm as House puts a small butterfly bandage on Chase's cheek.

"In a few days you'll be pretty again," House states as he shoves the rest of the supplies back into the small first aid kit and then turns back to making dinner. "So what other mischief did you get into? Any long distance calls?"

"No. Did my father stop by the hospital today?"

"No," House easily lies. "Did he call you?"

"I never gave him the number and I had told the uh…the clerk at the front desk not to give it to him no matter what. That was before but…" Chase states glumly. "Was kinda hoping he'd stop by the hospital to see how I am."

"He certainly hasn't done that."

"Right," Chase replies with a small whisper as he takes the dish House hands him and slowly heads for the table, House watching with a heavy frown and wondering what he could do to cheer his sad little duckling up. "He could have at least sent a card."

"That would require caring."

"And he doesn't," Chase admits meekly as he offers House a brave smile that is instantly discerned as false.

"So…want me to get some girls in later?" House asks suddenly, causing Chase to look up in shock.

"Seriously?"

"No actually I'm joking. I just like seeing you make that deer in the headlights expression. You have mastered it quite well," House retorts as Chase slightly shakes his head and offers a small smile to which House take some small delight in; wanting to deflect Chase's melancholy mood away from his neglectful and irate father. "Wanna play strip poker instead?"

"Strip…poker?"

"Well I couldn't find Twister," House offers with a mock horrified expression, making Chase lightly chuckle.

"Got any funny movies?"

"Debbie does Chicago?" House retorts; Chase rolling his eyes as he goes back to picking at his food, House looking at him with a frustrated frown. He knows from his own experience that sitting around being useless was absolutely miserable but nothing could be said or done to change that until his situation changed. Chase wasn't about to just get up and start walking, hence ending his misery; he had to make him see in the meantime that he wasn't useless and there was indeed light at the end of the tunnel.

"Remember the lecture I gave last year…" House's voice trails off as Chase looks up with a rather uninterested expression. "I lost it."

"So?"

"So I want it back. Want to see if you can find it tomorrow?"

"Seriously? You'd let me…snoop?"

"Oh what are you gonna do? Drop another soup tin on the other side of your face? Find my porno's? Find…" House's voice trails off as he quickly does a mental check to make sure that everything he wanted hidden indeed was hidden. _A few things maybe are stray but those I can merely put on the top shelf of my closet and he can't get them. Better than him sitting and looking pathetic all day long. That face is even starting to affect me._

"Well?"

"Sure," Chase shrugs. "And when I find it?"

"Put it with the others and sort them."

"I am not your girl Friday."

"You have the legs for it," House quips as Chase's face finally smirks.

"You don't have to feel sorry for me House."

"I do feel sorry for you. Been there done…well that and it sucks. But doing nothing all day long can suck more."

"Right…" Chase sighs as he goes back to his meal, picking at it with even less enthusiasm than before and forcing House to start to mimic Chase until Chase finally clues in and looks up with a frown.

"Simon Says mimic Dr. Chase. This is just a temporary setback but…"

"I know and…and I'm grateful I am. I just…"

"Need something to take your mind off your current misery," House states rather than questions, earning himself a small head nod from Chase. "And Twister is out. I personally think you'd win."

Chase finally utters a small smirk as he takes his plate into the kitchen and places it onto the counter and then turns around to see House head into the living room and flip on the TV and slowly follows after him and ends up right beside the couch, watching with a fake small smile as House eases down onto the couch and stretches out lengthwise and then looks over at Chase who looks away in haste.

"So…what's on?"

House looks at Chase with a frown and then before the younger man can say anything House quickly springs up and rearranges the ottoman and then looks at Chase with a wag of his brows before he gently scoops Chase up and deposits him onto the couch; Chase's surprised expression morphing into one of grateful acceptance.

"Better?"

"Much," Chase agrees as he gives House a nod and then reaches for the remote the same time as House.

"That you'll have to get up and get it for yourself," House retorts as Chase's lips finally offer a small chuckle. "Okay now let's see…Debbie does…"

"Give me that," Chase leans over in a huff as he tries to reach for the remote just as House leans a bit further out of reach.

"Ah…how about some Honey Boo Boo…"

"Oh gawd…" Chase growls as he tries to lean closer to House to get the remote.

"How about…Duck Dynasty."

"Get off reality TV."

"Snakes on a Plane?"

"Gi…okay. It's a comedy right?"

"Well the acting is funny."

About ten minutes later the once somber environment is filled with silly laughter and sarcastic humor. But not so far away, one person wasn't laughing at all.

"Really? Dr. House said that?" The female orderly asks Bruno; Rowan Chase at the end of the counter pretending not to listen but paying close attention.

"Not in so many words but Dr. Chase is lucky…don't think anyone else could look after him like that."

"Now talk about role reversal."

"Maybe Dr. Chase will change his last name to House," the female orderly laughs as Bruno nods and laughs also, Rowan gritting his teeth and offering a narrowed gaze."Where's his real father anyways?"

"Dr. House said he passed away. He's now all Chase's got."

_We'll see about that, _Rowan silently hisses; for in his mind it wasn't the duty to care for his son so much as the desire to beat House at his own game that he now wants to succeed at. _You've meddled with my family long enough Dr. House._

* * *

**A/N:** Thoughts? So I have a few ideas for another chap at least and thought I'd toss in a few foreshadowing tidbits of angst with his father and a possible showdown if you all want it. Yes? No? hope you all liked this update as much as the first chapter and please let me know your thoughts in a review before you go and thanks so much! Your reviews worked the first chapter to get us a second, lets see if you all want a 3rd. :) (I hope they are both still in character)


	3. Unwanted Attention

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 3 – Unwanted Attention**

* * *

_'Father doesn't care…take care of yourself son…hire a housekeeper…I can't walk for you…no he didn't call…who's fault was it?...you stay here until you can walk on your own…my son…my friend…my…fault…'_

"Ahhhh…" Chase awakens in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, his watery eyes looking over and trying to focus on the clock as his hand touches his flushed forehead; uttering a soft growl before his fingers reach over and turn on the light; his throat dry and his mind begging him for a glass of water. For a split second, his mind completely forgets where he is and he throws back the covers, swings his legs over and prepares to stand up and walk out the door. But at the last second he remembers where he is and grips the edge of the bed, his legs merely folding under his body so that he lands in a somewhat crumpled heap on the floor.

Chase utters a small curse as he tries to get to the wheelchair, his brain recalling that House helped him into bed last night and forgot to set the brake, sending the machine careening into the wall and instantly bringing a slow set of hobbled footsteps in his direction.

"Dear wombat…it's too early for charades," House quips with a sleepy tone as he looks at Chase with a frown.

"Someone forgot the parking break last night," Chase retorts as House merely purses his lips and heads toward him. "I got this."

"I help you and I get back to my x-rated fantasies faster. Now hush," House lightly chastises as he helps Chase into the wheel chair and then literally turns around and leaves the room without saying another word.

"Thank you," Chase whispers as he heads toward the kitchen, eyeing the small pitcher that he had left for himself a few hours earlier. He takes the half-filled small glass and heads into the living room, pausing by the window and just looking outside into the quiet night of the city around them. As the silence starts to engulf him, his mind thinks back…long time ago…to when he was a small boy standing before his father on a similar night…asking for some comfort.

_'Crying is for sissies Robert…you are not a sissy. Who's fault was it?'_

_'But father…'_

_'Answer me!'_

_'Mine. It was my fault.'_

_'That's right. You broke your arm being careless…'_

_'But father…'_

_'Are you talking back Robert?'_

_'No.'_

_'No. Now your arm will take a few weeks to heal and until then you cannot play with the other children. You are to sit on the sidelines and watch as a reminder of your careless actions. Now go to your room.'_

_'Will you read to me?'_

_'Your arm is broken not your mouth or eyes and I'm busy. Go read in your room.'_

_'Yes…sir.'_

"You never cared…I was eight …" Chase confesses in a tormented whisper; not realizing he's being watched. "I broke my arm and you…you never cared about me," he hangs his head as his eyes water further; House quietly turning and heading back to bed, his mind angry at the elder Chase for being such a cold hearted dick toward his son at such a tender age; further justifying in his mind the need to keep him away from the younger Chase. _I still want to hit him with my cane._

But with his father was always about who was at fault and the paying consequences of one's own actions. He never shirked away from what he had caused or created and during that moment knew he was to blame for his arm breaking; but that's not why he sought out his father. His mother was always off in another drunken world and he just wanted some tender care…some love…something to make him actually feel wanted rather than a mere object brought into this world to carry on his father's last name and medical reputation or a regretful mistake.

_'Mother…'_

_'Go bother your father Robert, I'm busy. Scram.'_

Chase finishes the small glass of water, feeling the agitation in his stomach starting to subside but the anxiety in his mind now fresher than before due to the tormented memory about his very strained childhood. _If he didn't care then, he wouldn't care now, _his mind sadly but rightfully acknowledges as he places the cup on the counter and heads back to bed, wondering what else he could do to keep himself entertained the next day instead of just feeling sorry for himself.

XXXXXXXX

"Ah there you are Dr. House," Rowan Chase's voice is heard as House enters through the standard ER entrance the following morning.

Knowing he had two very early appointments that morning, House had awoken earlier than expected, pausing in the entrance to Chase's bedroom to see him fast asleep and knowing what a crummy night he had the night before, decided to get coffee on the go and let Chase sleep in as long as he wanted. Telling himself that Rowan would be well on his way by now, House didn't try to sneak in the employee entrance; now his mind curses as he wished he had.

With his back to the elder Dr. Chase, House grits his teeth and then turns around with a placid expression. "Here I am. And I see you are still here. Why is that by the way? The hearing is over and everyone was cleared. That should make things better for you."

"I know my son is with you."

"Actually we both like women," House retorts with a snarky tone to which Rowan just narrows his gaze.

"I mean staying with you during his rehab. I would like to see him."

"He's busy…" House replies as he tries to take his leave; Rowan stepping in front and looking at him with an angry glare. "You know Robert gets that same look whenever I take his rubber duckie."

"You can't keep my son from me."

"Do you want to see him simply to remind him he made a mistake and now is paying for it? He is kinda smart," House chirps. "I think he gets it."

"My intensions are my own."

"I'd still like to know them."

"Don't make this difficult on yourself. I'm not a man to suffer lightly."

"Drop by my office later and I'll see what I can arrange," House holds Rowan's glare a few seconds longer before he turns around to leave; his eyes looking as the nearest nurse and heading right for them, praying they were smart enough to just follow along. "Is Mr. Duncan in yet?"

"Yes he's waiting in examination room three."

"You'll excuse me Dr. Chase, but I have work to do. Some of us actually have to work to earn our money," he deadpans before he pulls away for good and heads for the next room, texting Wilson as he goes.

_'I'm busy and I'm out of favors,' _Wilson texts back, much to House's chagrin, forcing him to lightly curse and duck inside the small room; feeling Rowan's invisible visual daggers bounce off his back just before he closes the door and then looks at the elderly patient with a frown.

"Hold that thought," he utters just as the patient opens his mouth; dialing another number and cursing Rowan's meddling existence.

XXXXXXXX

_'Remember not to open the door to strangers. Brenda will be back tomorrow.'_

Chase looks at House's text and shrugs it off with a smile as he goes about making his coffee; happy that right before bed he had helped House rearrange a few things in the kitchen that were actually Chase-friendly and his routine was a lot less strained than the day before. With his mind already determined to buy dinner, Chase takes his coffee and heads into the living room, looking around for where he thinks House might have misplaced his speech.

"Figures," Chase groans as he finds a stash of adult magazines hidden behind a rather innocent looking set of books. He places everything back as he found it and then carries on; leaving the TV on in the background to keep the suffocating silence at bay. At least with someone else's voice in his head, it would keep the tormented memories of his few interactions with his father at bay; memories he'd rather forget; memories about his unloved childhood. However, it's not long before a commercial comes on in the background; the male voice very similar in tone to his father's and forcing the reel of haunted memories to start playing again.

_'Who started the fight Robert?'_

_'But father he…'_

_'Who's fault was it Robert?'_

_'Mine Sir but he s…'_

_'Yours and you'll now be grounded for an entire month.'_

_'But…'_

_'I'm very disappointed in you Robert. I thought I taught you better. Go to your room now.'_

_'Yes Sir.'_

"Only ever cared about who was to blame and making sure they paid for their actions…namely me…" Chase's voice growls with a small hiss as the image finally fades; his fist tightening around the base of a small plant he had picked up; his brain quickly yelling at him to ease up and put the helpless pot of ivy back on the windowsill.

"And now…I nearly die and he…he only wants to know who's to blame and…" Chase stops himself before he feels his eyes wanting to water and his heart skip a beat. As uncomfortable as he was at first with Bruno the day before, he now wishes the gentle giant was here to help fill the verbal void as the mindless dribble on the TV in the background wasn't working.

He thinks about House arranging for Bruno in the first place and feels a small feeling of comfort starting to settle upon him. While a small part of him wishes that for even one day the cranky doctor would stay home and just give him a break from the morbid silence, he knows even asking that is out of the question. House would probably not agree in the first place. But at least House had found him a helper that he didn't have to feel embarrassed around or a female nurse who might have other things on her mind; things his body couldn't even fulfill at the moment.

Chase slowly heads back into the hallway and stares at House's bedroom at the end and heads toward it, his heart rate slightly elevating that he would soon be entering forbidden territory and would be caught doing something wrong. He pauses in the doorway and then notices the small answering machine to the right and heads for it. He scrolls through the list, pausing at the PPTH main number and then looking at the one that followed.

"But that's…that's my father's cell number," Chase ponders with a small frown as he recalls asking House if his father had called and House saying no. And while it was true that House sometimes played games if not asked a 'direct' question, such as did his father call the main apartment number or the cell number not just called in general, surely he tells himself that House would tell him that is father had tried to call.

"Why would he lie to me about it? He's the one that called my father in the first place," Chase mutters to himself as he slowly looks around House's bedroom and then stops; his mind now distracted by the set of numbers on the call display.

"Maybe he was concerned?" Chase now starts to muse. "But surely House would tell me…wouldn't he?"

Chase leans back in the wheelchair and rubs his weary face, looking back at the number with a curious glance; his brain now wondering if he should call his father or not. Instead he picks up the phone and calls the main PPTH number, dialing into his own professional mail box to see if there were any messages from his father.

"None," Chase states glumly as he presses a button and then is taken back to the main reception desk for his area of expertise. "Any messages for Dr. Chase?"

_"Nothing so far. How are you feeling?" The clerk asks in concern._

He makes small talk for a few seconds longer and then hangs up with a heavy heart. So why had he called House? Was it only to find out the case results? Was that really it? Was that all he was concerned about? Who's at fault? _I can get you a housekeeper Robert…but I can't walk for you…why would I stay…can't walk for you…_

"Nothing's changed," he finally resigns as he turns and heads back into the hallway and then down to his bedroom. He works at pulling on some socks and runners, his mind now wanting to get out of the apartment and get a bit of fresh air; away from the inner sanctum of his new…home? "More like open prison," he slightly grimaces as he leaves on his black sweatpants and reaches for a sweater.

"Wheels…" Chase smirks as he recalls House's nickname for him now.

Wanting to get a bit better lay of the land, Chase heads for the front door, having gotten the spare key back from Bruno, ensuring him he'd be there to answer the door in person when he came the next day for his shower and just general company. Not really wanting to head out of the actual building, he leaves his wallet and phone on the table and heads into the hallway and then slowly makes his way toward the elevator; pressing the button and then waiting.

He makes his way down to the main floor, the doors opening and allowing him to slowly wheel out into the main foyer area and stop; looking around before heading toward a small table with a smattering of local newspapers and free brochures. He picks up a one page neighborhood news brief and starts to read; muttering to himself about some lame joke and wondering what House would think of the neighborhood clinic having an open house and if he had ever been there.

Chase lingers a few extra minutes, finally becoming aware of a set of strange eyes on him and then twisting his head to see a rather scruffy looking middle aged man watching him intently.

"Morning," Chase offers with a tight smile.

"You new here?"

"No. Are you?" Chase retorts firmly.

"I live here…never seen you before."

"Well I can assure you I am quite harmless," Chase quips as the strange man just looks at him with unblinking eyes.

"Good to know. How long you been in that chair?"

"Seems like forever."

But the man doesn't answer back, merely stares at Chase with a placid expression; unblinking eyes and a stiff posture; his whole exterior forcing Chase's anxiety to soar.

"Right…well…have a good day," he utters in haste as he tries to head back toward the elevator; his nervousness starting to surge as well.

"Which apartment are you in?"

"Might I ask what business is it of yours?" Chase replies with a small huff; looking at him with his own narrowed gaze but cursing the fact that he knows he'd be useless in any kind of physical confrontation.

"Just wondering. No need to get testy about it," the stranger shrugs as Chase slowly moves past. But not wanting to head up to his floor with the stranger there, he heads for the common area, frowning when he sees it empty; not even an elderly person was there to keep him company.

"Sorry," Chase offers as the stranger finally heads down another hallway and disappears into the quiet from which he came. Still not having getting a good vibe, Chase heads down another hallway, just wanting to explore House's apartment complex a bit more and not realizing a few floors up that two phones were taking turns ringing one right after the other and one concerned guardian wondering where his little duckling had gotten to.

Chase nears and then enters the quiet laundry facility and looks around, hearing a slightly odd noise from behind and then twisting his head to see the stranger looking at him with an angry scowl. "Is th…" is all he manages before a heavy fist lands on his face, snapping his head to the right and his body to jerk in the base of the wheelchair.

"Now give me…" the angry voice growls as he tries to grab for where he thinks Chase's wallet might be. Chase feels the wheelchair threatening to tip over and once again can only curse the fact his legs refuse to cooperate in at least keeping himself upright.

"Where is your damn wal…"

"I don't hav…" Chase stammers back as he tries to keep himself from being pummeled further. He feels the chair starting to tip as his attacker grabs his arms and starts to pull him out, his hands gripping the two armrests and holding on.

But just before the stranger can offer another blow to his unprotected frame, the stranger's lips cry out as he's struck from behind, not once but twice before crumpling to the ground beside the wheelchair and forcing Chase to look up in utter surprise; at the same time a spare metal handicap railing drops to the ground.

"I know…I didn't expect me here either," a friendly voice states in truth. "Come on…let's get you back upstairs."

XXXXXXXX

"Are we done yet?" The young patient whines as House looks at him with a frown.

"It's are we there yet?" House counters as the whiny kid sticks out his tongue. "Yes…now go play in the traffic," House snaps as he turns and leaves the room, looking at the time and then pulling his phone. But when Chase doesn't answer his cell again, House tries his own home phone, impatiently tapping the closest table with the end of his cane and wondering why Chase wasn't answering.

"House, you're needed in the…"

"I'm busy," House glares at Foreman as he tries Chase's cell number once more and then looks at the time. He had given Bruno the spare house key so tells himself that Chase wouldn't venture out without the key and knows Bruno's not due there today, in fact he had seen him earlier. "Okay I'm really going to give him a spanking when I get home," House growls, making the nearest nurse look up in wonder. "Dr. Chase…he's playing games."

House pulls away from the desk and the rather un-amused nurse and then tries another tactic. "Where are you?"

_"Away. What do you want?"_

"I need a favor."

_"I'm out and you're busy…at least you should be," Wilson's voice states with a huff. "House I'm…"_

"I think something's happened to Chase."

_"Based on what?"_

"Women's intuition," House retorts.

_"Last time I checked your female vibes were way off."_

"Would you swing by and…"

_"His father still around?"_

"Out of the question. I'll make it up to you."

_"Famous last words," Wilson groans as he hangs up._

XXXXXXXX

"So you were in the neighborhood?" Chase asks Wilson as they slowly reenter House's apartment; Chase's eye throbbing and his head spinning from the botched attack.

"Actually…I was," Wilson replies with a small frown. "I'll get some ice. Looks like you already have a bruise there?"

"Dropped a tin of soup on myself. Don't ask," Chase groans as he follows Wilson into the kitchen.

"You okay staying here?" Wilson asks with his back to Chase as he gets a few ice cubes from the freezer and places them into a small Ziploc baggie and then turns and hands it to Chase; Chase's fingers feeling a small smattering of blood under his nose.

"Beats staying alone," Chase replies firmly as Wilson dampens a soft cloth and then hands it to him; Chase dabbing his nose until the blood is gone.

"Saw your father yesterday. You didn't want to stay with him?"

"Well…he offered a housekeeper. He was always very good about offering me his money," Chase confesses with a soft frown; his expression quickly changing to a tight lipped smile as he looks up and swallows. "At least it's not boring here."

"No…House could never be accused of being boring; everything else but boring. You okay otherwise?" Wilson asks in concern.

"I have my first checkup next week. And then…all goes well I can schedule rehab but…but it'll be just the basics at first."

"It'll come."

"I hate feeling pathetic," Chase confesses, knowing he could always count on Wilson to get a kind and listening ear.

"You're not pathetic…"

"I was nearly robbed and was unable to do anything but hold onto the damn chair. If you hadn't come along…"

"You just need to rest after the surgery and then when you start your therapy it'll be better."

"I know," Chase replies with a small smile; one he could tell Wilson could tell was fake but thankfully didn't call him on.

"Just rest okay? I have another house call to make. You gonna be okay?"

"Yes. Thanks," Chase gestures with the ice as he follows after Wilson into the hallway.

"How do you manage in here? You know showering and stuff?"

"House has arranged a housekeeper."

"He did? Who?"

"Bruno."

"Not a woman?" Wilson retorts with a smile.

"That was my first choice."

"Woulda been mine too. Okay…don't open the door to strangers," Wilson smirks as he offers Chase a wave and then disappears into the hallway, closing the door behind him. Chase locks the door and then turns to leave, a few minutes, however, pausing as he hears a soft knock on the door and then returns to open it; telling himself it's Wilson.

"For the record I don't consider you…a strang…er…" Chase's voice dies out in his throat as he opens the door and stares in shock at the last person he ever expected to see, especially at this apartment. "Father?"

"Hello Robert," a stern voice replies back.

* * *

**A/N:** uh oh….so a small seed of doubt was planted in Chase's mind about House not telling him about the call. Had to get a bit more Chase whump in there but when Rowan sees the condition of his son, what do you think will happen? Will there be a fatherly showdown and just what do you think Rowan's game is? I think I can push this a bit more and hope that's okay with you all so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	4. Emotional Blackmail

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 4 – Emotional Blackmail**

**A/N: **Thanks again to everyone who is reviewing this story and keeping me going, I soooo appreciate it and it makes me want to extend the story so I have come up with a new angsty angle to make it a bit longer thanks to you all (so this isn't the ending as I had originally planned and hope thats okay). To those that left after chapter 1 – sorry! For the rest hope you enjoy this update thanks!

* * *

_'My son…my beloved son…what has that horrible man done to you? Come here and let me hold you and make it all better…I've come to take you home with me and look after you until you are better. I love you Robert…please come home with me. Let me look after you. I'm your father.'_

For a few tormented seconds, Chase's mind shows him a very fairy-tale like vision of his father rushing to his side, gathering him up in arms, holding him close and offering him some tender loving care. However, that dream quickly dissipates as soon as his father's clipped tone finally registers in his surprised brain.

"I see Dr. House is treating you well," Rowan looks at the black eye adorning the fair skin of his son's face with an inspecting gaze.

"This wasn't...from…what are you doing here?" Chase stammers in shock.

"Did he hit you?"

"He…father…are you really here to see me?"

"I want to know why he hit you?"

"He didn't hit me. I was nearly robbed. Why are you here?" Chase presses back as his lips try to decide between a smile or not.

"Well since Dr. House keeps ignoring my repeated requests to see you…I took it upon myself to come and check up on you myself. You are my son and I am allowed despite wh..."

"Repeated?" Chase asks in shock. "Really? You asked him about me?"

"Why did he hit you? You said something he didn't like and he showed you who's boss?"

"Dr. House would never hurt me. You asked him about me? You were concerned?" Chase's voice asks with a hint of hope.

"Now that I see how he's treating you maybe I have reason to be," Rowan replies curtly.

"He never told me you called."

"Well I suspect he's slightly unstable. But I did call. May I come in?"

"Just once I would like to hear you say it," Chase lightly begs, looking up at his father with an expectant expression.

"What?"

"That you care about me. That that's the real reason you're here," Chase admits in a sad tone. "Please."

"I am concerned that you're not getting proper care," Rowan replies with a tight lipped smile. But as his mouth relaxes and his jaw tightens Chase thinks back in his mind to another sordid memory.

_'But father said he cared you heard it mother. He'll be back. He said he cared about me.'_

_'You're too young to know his facial expressions Robert. He was lying! He doesn't care about you or me…he is never coming back.'_

_'He said…'_

_'He's not!'_

_'Tell me how you know? What did you see that I didn't?'_

_'Right after he gives that small tight lipped smile his jaw tightens and he pauses a few seconds. He's lying. He doesn't care about you…he never has and he never will. He will never want to say he cares directly and if you force him he's lying. Now go to your room and leave me alone. I'm busy.'_

_'But mother…'_

_'Go or you'll go to the study!'_

"I just want to hear you say it….even just once," Chase implores, feeling like the small child standing with an expectant gaze before his uncaring father so many years ago.

"You're a grown man Robert, why do you care about childish sentimentalities?"

"I'm your only son and I nearly died, I would think that it's not childish. You flew in from…"

"I wasn't in Melbourne. I am here for a training bout. It was just good timing."

"Good timing that I was…"

"When Dr. House called."

"So then…"

"Robert…"

"Are you here to offer me better care?" Chase asks curtly.

"Yes. I hired a…"

"Hired? Not interested," Chase groans as he slowly pulls back and prepares to close the door; Rowan's arm roughly forcing it back open as he looks down at his son with a heavy frown.

"I didn't ask if you wanted it I said I have already done it. You don't have a choice here."

"I'm not a child or your property. I make my own decisions. If I didn't want to be here I wouldn't."

"You don't belong here."

"I don't want some stranger looking after me. I can manage just fine."

"Your appearance would suggest otherwise."

"How many times did you ask Dr. House about me?" Chase asks in wonder.

"Several. He was rather coy. Do you know why?"

"Maybe he just didn't want you coming here and asking if it was my fault or offering me false sentimentalities."

"I am allowed to ask my son whatever I want," Rowan insists, earning a small huff from Chase's lips. "Dr. House has been lying to you. Certainly a man that lies doesn't have your best interest at heart. So why remain here?" Rowan continues his verbal manipulation.

"Lying? About what?"

"About why you're really here," Rowan states firmly

"How do I know _you're _not lying about him lying?"

Chase watches his father pull his phone and hold it up, showing the sent messages and dialed calls and then the received ones from House and feels a small pang stab his very core. _My father is right? Why didn't House tell me he at least called? Surely he would have let me make up my own mind about seeing my father? He called him in the first place? Why not tell me now? Has he be lying all along? Was it a just a game to him? Something to laugh about to Wilson?_

"Did he tell you I called? Or did you choose not to call back on your own?" Rowan asks directly; his inspecting gaze actually taking a small amount of unseen delight in seeing his son squirm in the knowledge that he's right. _So Dr. House didn't tell him as suspected. I wouldn't have either but Robert doesn't need to know that. _"He even told your large friend Bruno that I was dead."

"He did not," Chase insists just as Rowan snaps a few pictures of his face where the bruises are; forcing Chase to look up in surprise. "What was…"

"He did…so," Rowan plays a recording of him talking to Bruno, unbeknownst to Bruno.

"You tricked him?" Chase asks in confusion.

"I asked Bruno a question and you heard him answer. Now do you really want to stay with a man that lies to and merely has you here for his own selfish gain?"

"Selfish gain? What does he have to gain?"

"Can I come in?" Rowan asks again as he looks at Chase firmly; Chase's mind racing with confused thoughts about what his father told him versus what House's motivation could be.

"I asked you a question."

"Watch your tone with me Robert," Rowan replies with exasperation. "I don't know what Dr. House's sick game for having you here is but I don't have to agree or like it…whatever he's using you for."

"He's not using me."

"I'll be the judge of that. Now let me in," Rowan looks down with an insistent glare.

Chase finally feels himself pulling back a bit further and allowing his father to enter, his eyes fixed on the man standing a few feet away but his mind and heart now deadlocked in an emotional battle. _Why is my father really here? To prove something to himself? Merely to get back at House? But House lied to me? Maybe my father really is concerned about me? Maybe…_

"Doesn't seem very…invalid friendly."

"I'm not an invalid," Chase replies with a small huff.

"Are you going to tell me the truth behind the black eye and fat lip?"

"I dropped a soup tin on myself and I was mugged earlier. Thankfully…"

"A soup tin? So Dr. House won't even do you the courtesy of making things more easily accessible to you? Are you here simply for his twisted amusement? Does he get off on seeing you hurt merely so he can offer some false comfort later?"

"I'm okay thank you. So are you going to be staying in town longer?" Chase pushes ahead, ignoring his father's comment about his appearance and House's involvement in it.

"I have a place prepared for you Robert. I even got you a female nurse. I know you'd like that better than Bruno fellow," Rowan states; adding a bit of distaste to his tone when punctuating Bruno's name.

"I actually don't mind Bruno. He's strong and gentle and…"

"He's a man and the last time I checked you're not gay. Unless something else happened?"

"Bruno isn't either and I'd rather have a straight man helping me than a woman who…I just don't so after I thought about it I don't want a woman and Dr. House did the right thing."

"But he was the one that picked Bruno without asking you right?"

"He did the right thing."

"So he can force his choice on you but your own father can't try to offer help?"

"I like Bruno. I don't feel any…obligation for anything further when he's around. I might with a woman and I can't offer anything further."

"You're a grown man Robert, you can simply tell the nurse no."

"I'd rather not have to make that choice and Dr. House knows that. I like it here."

"So you do the cooking and well…whatever cleaning you can manage in your condition? You're his personal maid? And you don't find that demeaning?"

"So far I haven't had the opportunity to cook," Chase admits as he studies his father's side profile. "Dr. House likes to cook and I was asleep the last two nights when he came home and he took care of it," his voice trails off as he watches his father's jaw tighten as he mentions something positive about his living arrangements.

"Well at least I can arrange for a housekeeper."

"Maybe you'll turn me into an invalid," Chase whispers bitterly. "At least Dr. House doesn't make me feel like I would be useless. He doesn't let me wallow."

"No its much better that he lies directly to your face. Am happy to know you are so gullible Robert," Rowan lightly snaps as he heads past Chase, continuing his inspection of House's apartment; Chase watching from a discreet distance and then slowly following. "Are you taking your medication?"

"Almost finished this set and then I go for my first examination. Will you be here for it?" Chase asks with some hope in his tone; his brain and heart still hoping there is some small possibility that he could appeal to his father's inner sense of compassion.

"Depends on my agenda," Rowan replies coolly as he looks into the room that his son calls home for now and frowns; inwardly cursing Dr. House for making it somewhat homey and inviting. He looks at the two pictures; one of the team and one of his son and Dr. House and feels his fists tighten and teeth clench inside his jaw. _You can 't beat me House. _

"But there is a small chance?" Chase inquires eagerly; his eyes resting on his father's back.

"This isn't…a welcoming room."

"My room is…"

"Looks more like a friendly prison. But I would expect nothing less than that from your lying jailer. And how is it you got mugged today? You went out? On your own? You know you can't fight back."

"Well I'm not…"

"At least I'll arrange a driver for…" Rowan's voice trails off as he ducks back out and heads towards House's bedroom and peers inside with an arched brow. "Typical."

"A driver?" Chase asks in shock as his father turns and looks at him with a small frown.

"Well you can't exactly defend yourself can you?"

"I managed today."

"You look just like the time Billy M…"

"I remember," Chase huffs. "I really don't want to talk about my unpleasant childhood."

"Had you not gone out or if you did and had you not been alone this wouldn't have happened. I think father knows better than some ill-tempered jailer."

"He's not my jailer."

"He's not an honest man either. Who knows what else he'll do at your expense. So that's why I've arranged for…"

"Who else father? A housekeeper, female nurse…driver…will there be enough room for us?" Chase lightly quips; his head slightly cocking as he waits for his father to turn around and look at him.

"Come now…time to take your medication."

"I was going to order in dinner tonight and…"

"Order in? You're on sick leave and he expects you to spend your mo…"

"I can manage and I really don't mind. It's just me showing my appreciation."

"To a man who's lied to you? You should be resting, not playing waiter to this…man."

"You didn't answer my question. With all those guests you've arranged…where are we staying father? A penthouse in…"

"Where does he keep…ah here we go," Rowan finds a glass and gets busy.

"Would you join us for dinner?"

"Is that a joke Robert?" Rowan asks sharply as he reaches for Chase's medication. "Better if you crush it like this."

"I can call Dr. House and tell him that I'm having supper with you then. We can go to a restaurant."

"Drink this."

Chase looks at the milky contents in the glass and then up at his father with a small frown. "Please father…at least have supper with me before you go? Anywhere."

"I offer you everything b…"

"But the one thing I want," Chase slightly pouts as he takes the glass and holds it for a few seconds. "I want you to stay with me…or I can stay with you…at least a week?"

"Drink it all Robert."

"Yes sir," Chase mumbles sadly as he downs the contents and then hands the glass back to his father. "Please stay."

"Dr. House doesn't care about you my son. He told you what you wanted to hear and has lied to you and is probably laughing about having his little helpless plaything doing his menial tasks. Why stay with someone who has knowingly kept your own father from you and lied to you and lied to others."

"I'm sure he had…"

"His reasons? And do you really think he'd tell you the truth this time around about why he _really _took you in?"

"To help me?"

"Maybe he was the one really at fault and this is his own personal pity party. You're an object of his guilt."

"I think…" Chase starts and then stops, his face offering a small frown as he father looks at him in mock concern.

"What is it?"

"I just feel…I'm feeling a bit…tired, almost…sluggish."

"Not sleeping well?"

"No it's just…" Chase slightly stammers as he feels his entire core starting to heat up and his heart beat a bit faster. "I had something spicy at lunch so…maybe…"

"You look flushed," Rowan states the obvious.

"I feel warm…" Chase starts as his vision starts to blur and the room slightly spin. He looks up at his father in concern. "Help…me."

"Oh…I intend to."

XXXXXXXX

"Yes yes that's all now take two and get lost," House huffs as he turns and see's Foreman watching with a heavy frown. "He used up his fifteen seconds."

"I need you too…"

"I'm technically done for the day," House pulls away before Foreman could offer another verbal protest, his eyes darting down to Wilson's text message and then back up as he nears the home care station.

"Hey Dr. House," Bruno greets with an easy smile.

"What time are you going to see Dr. Chase tomorrow?"

"He said eleven. That still okay?"

"If that's what he wants; then that's what he gets. About the spare key. I need it back to make a co…"

"Dr. Chase kept it."

"He did," House states more than questions as he nods and then turns to leave.

"But if you need another one made I can get that done on my way in. I promise I'll be back before his friend arrives."

"His…friend?" House turns back in interest.

"Yeah was here earlier. Said it would be for lunch."

"What kind of friend? Male or female?"

"Male," Bruno smiles. "Older fellow…kinda like your age."

"Older," House grumbles as he pulls out his phone and pulls up the picture of Chase and his father that he had sent himself. "This the older friend?"

"Yeah that's him. Said he was a specialist in…." Bruno's voice dies out as House turns and heads away, muttering an angry curse in Rowan Chase's name.

"Being a pain in the ass," House grumbles as he pulls his phone and calls Wilson.

_"Yes he was alone when I left. You told him no girls and he actually agreed."_

"What about his father?"

_"His father's still here? Thought you said he left town."_

"It seems I was wrong."

_"That's a real first," Wilson replies in sarcasm as House offers a glib goodnight and hangs up with his best friend, his mind now wondering just what heartache the elder Chase was causing his young duckling to suffer. _

House nears his apartment and looks up to see all the windows dark and now wonders if Chase is indeed okay or if a visit from his father sent him into a suspected depressive downgrade. He heads into the underground parking lot and stops, slowly heading toward the elevator and feelnig his phone buzzing just as he enters.

_'Does Chase know his father is here?'_

"Yes he does," House mutters to himself as he ignores Wilson's text and shoves the phone back into his inner jacket pocket. The ride up in the elevator he thinks about what Bruno told him and now wonders what the two Dr. Chases had talked about and if Rowan had told his son he had called and what Robert had said or thought in return or if he even believed him. _I had my reasons, _House's mind ponders. _The last thing Robert wants is a cold manipulator in charge of his recovery. His father doesn't care…and yet you still feel guilty about lying to him don't you, _his mind pushes back to which House's face offers a small outward wince in reluctant acceptance.

House nears the door to his quiet apartment and now wonders what's going on as he hears nothing and smells nothing; his mind recalling Chase telling him in the morning that he'd be responsible for dinner.

"Maybe he's asleep," House muses to himself as he pulls his key and prepares to enter. He pushes the door open and stares at the darkened apartment before him; tosses the keys onto the nearby table, closes the door and takes off his jacket.

_I'll see if my wombat is still asleep, _House whispers to himself as he nears the room the younger Chase is currently calling home; expecting to see the younger man soundly sleeping. He listens for a few seconds but as the silence starts to mount he can't help but wonder where the comforting sounds that he normally hears coming from Chase's room have gotten to. He peers inside and then quickly flips on the overhead light and stares in surprise at the empty bed and empty room.

House slowly heads toward the bed, looking at the open and empty drawers; then casting his gaze upward to the open and empty closet and frowning before his attention finally turns back down toward the single piece of paper on the bed.

He picks it up and curses as his eyes narrow at the four telling words scribbled in red ink; words not written by Robert Chase. _Rowan!_

_'You lied to me.'_

* * *

**A/N:** uh oh…so did Chase know about that note? Where has Rowan taken his son? Will House find him? Will a showdown of the guardians happen? Hope you are all liking this still and please to review before you go. Your feedback keeps this story going longer and longer (and have used a few ideas from your reviews!) thanks so much!


	5. Whispers and Lies

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 5 – Whispers and Lies**

* * *

_'My son…you're here with me now so I can take care of you.'_

_'Really? For how long?'_

_'For as long as you need. Just rest now. You feel very warm and just need to rest. Let me take care of you.'_

_'Why?'_

_'Because I want to. I love you Robert. Please just rest.'_

Chase's mind offers an image of himself as a boy tucked in a warm, cozy bed with his father's gentle touch on his flushed face; his lips offering a contented sigh as his father offers a cool cloth to his warm skin, his face leaning into the comforting touch. He had longed for some fatherly affection since a small boy; often jealous when he'd hear of the other boys at school doing things with their fathers; him going home to a house filled with sorrow and misery; until it was empty. Outwardly he had always told everyone he knew better than to expect his father to just magically start to want to fill the paternal role; inwardly there was still a small seed of hope waiting to be planted; his lips never uttering the fact that he always longed for paternal affection and approval but heart wanting a taste even as a grown man. His dream would never come true. Rowan Chase's actions weren't motivated by genuine concern even in light of nearly losing his only son; but merely to get back at one man for telling others he was the one taking care of his son.

"House?" Chase whispers as he slowly comes out of his fuzzy stupor and tries to focus on a person hovering over him. He finally gets his eyes to focus on the stranger and feels his anxiety surge as he tries to sit upright. "Not…who are you?"

"Please Sir you need to lie still."

"Sir? What…where am I?" Chase asks with a confused expression as a small bedside light is turned on and he frowns at the stranger looking at him. "Who are you?"

"I am Kari and am your nurse. You are…"

"My…nurse? Where…am…I? The hospital? Why? What happened?" Chase demands in frustration as he looks around the sparsely furnished room; wondering if he was in perhaps a private room, but why? His brain searches back and recalls his rather strained visit with his father, taking his medication, feeling sick and then blacking out. _Did my father bring me to the hospital? What happened? What did I take? _"Where?"

"You're at…" the strange female starts as Chase looks around for his wheelchair; heavy footsteps hurrying toward him. Despite the fact that his head is pounding and core enflamed, Chase tosses back the covers and frantically looks around for a means of escape. "Where is my wheelchair? Bring it to…"

"My son will be ready for supper in a while," Rowan dismisses the female nurse.

"Father? What's going on?" Chase looks up at his father as he nears the bed and tries to move over; his body sluggish to respond to his mental commands and so he just lies there with a warm forehead and tight stomach.

"How do you feel?"

"Where am I?"

"I asked you a question Robert."

"I feel sick. Where am I?"

"Hush now," Rowan lightly chirps as he pulls a small thermometer and gestures for his son to lie back down. "You need to rest in your condition."

"I have the right to know where I am. And where is my wheelchair?"

"It will be brought when needed."

"How did I get here?"

"I brought you."

"And where is here?" Chase lightly demands.

"Think of it as a private wellness center. Now you look a bit flushed from the journey. Lie still and open your mouth," Rowan instructs firmly as his hand rests on Chase's chest; his fingers holding him in place while he tends to his patient. Chase feels the small object pushed between his lips and looks up at his father with a frustrated expression.

"A small fever as I suspected."

"I remember…you gave me my medication and then…was it drugged? Did you drug me to bring me here?"

"You took your medication and then felt sick and blacked out and I couldn't leave you alone and brought you here."

"You could have called Dr. House; it was his apartment," Chase insists with a small frown. "He's very capable. Or I could have gone back to the hospital to wai..."

"You need someone to take care of you until you can walk and I have hired the best people to do that. Trust me, I know what's best and it's not Dr. House. Besides I know you like your charmed life and I am giving that to you."

"I like doing things on my own…it's what I'm used to now," Chase's arms try to fold on his chest as he looks at his father in frustration.

"You're welcome."

"You didn't ask me if I wanted to be waited on by a house full of strangers. I don't want this. What am I to be thankful for?"

"This is not about what _you_ want."

"Well it should be since _I am_ the one recovering from this horrific nightmare. I'm not a child to control."

"Father's always know best."

"Best for who? You didn't ask me what I wanted," Chase insists.

"You seem to defend him but did Dr. House ask you what you wanted when he created your unfriendly prison?"

"It wasn't unfri..."

"Did Dr. House tell you that he only brought you to his inner sanctum to make up for the fact that he was to blame for your current condition?"

"He said th..."

"Did Dr. House tell you that he picked that brute to look after you without asking merely to mock you?"

"No I liked Bru..."

"He didn't create a home for you."

"And what do you call this prison? Home? Because that's what this feels like; a high priced prison!" Chase snaps as he tries to roll onto his side away from his father; his lips muttering in an undertone out of miserable frustration. "And are you staying here with me or does my jailer have his own palace somewhere else?"

"I'm not the one needing help and I am here to work."

"As much as you want to run down Dr. House at least I wasn't surrounded by strangers."

"No discussion here Robert. You'll see Dr. House when you have completed your rehabilitation. Now rest up and Carl will come and get you when supper is ready."

"I'm not hungry."

"You will eat. You need your strength to get better."

"I have a small fever. You said it yourself."

"You will have supper when it's ready. It's not really a request. The fever has nothing to do with an illness; it's just you being worked up for nothing."

"Nothing? I don't want to be here."

"Well you are will be here for a while so make the best of it."

"You didn't give me a choice," Chase argues in return, his back still turned toward his father's figure, hoping he leaves soon and he could go back to figuring out a way to leave on his own merit.

"I don't have to."

Chase waits for his father to leave and then turns around with an angry but watery gaze, looking at the clock and then trying to sit up. He looks at the room he's now being kept in and feels his sorrow starting to build as the room lightly spins. A small closet and a table beside the bed with only a clock and lamp on it; nothing personal. _Where are my pictures? Where is my phone? Wallet? Laptop? There's nothing personal here. At least House did…that…_his brain acknowledges in angry frustration. Why did I open the door?

Chase places his arms under his frame and tries to pull himself up to a sitting position; cursing the fact that he doesn't have the strength to get up and walk out on his own two feet. He feels his forehead and sure enough pulls his hand back from the small fever with an angry curse.

He leans back on the bed frame and wonders what House is doing. _Probably wondering where I've gone and cursing the fact that I left without warning. Would he even suspect my father of visiting? After all the lies would he even care? Would he come looking? Do I want that? House told me it was partly about guilt…was it only guilt? Or did he really give a damn? Or was that a lie also? Was it all just a game to House? He likes his games...was I a game of pity? Or did he really care? _About twenty minutes of tormented silence, Chase lifts his tired gaze as another stranger appears in the doorway with his wheelchair.

"Time for supper."

XXXXXXXX

"You still should have told him," Wilson insists as he rubs his weary face.

"Heard that one already. Next question Alex," House retorts in sarcasm, referring to the iconic jeopardy game show host; Alex Trebek.

"I'm not going to blow sunshine up your ass because you are feeling guilty. Robert can't walk and feels…damn you've been there. He feels angry and helpless and useless and you lied to him. The truth might have hurt but he did have the right to hear it."

"I did tell...well part of it. The rest I spared until he was...better," House sighs as he pulls away from Wilson and leaves the kitchen; slowly limping back to Chase's room and looking inside with a heavy frown. _Sorry duckling…I didn't want this for you…I wanted you to have a familiar home to just rest in and not be alone during this time, _his mind offers in silent misery as Wilson comes up behind him.

"You're really worried about him aren't you?"

"Can I get a warrant put out on Rowan Chase for kidnapping?"

"Kidnapping? Seriously?"

"The glass with white residue in the sink tells me I'm right."

"His medication is white. Maybe Chase went with him willingly?" Wilson suggests with a small shrug.

"No way he went with that lying bastard willingly."

"That lying bastard is his father and if I can recall, you lied to him also?"

"Why are you here?" House retorts with a heavy exhale.

"Truth hurts," Wilson sighs as House turns to him with a scowl. "You wanting to bring Chase here was…"

"Wrong?"

"Actually no. It was great; if not solely motivated by guilt. But don't you think he could have agreed to a few things as well? We both know he's not the biggest fan of his father. Rowan walked out on him when he was a kid; we all know that and he's put on a brave and stoney face his entire life. So...you lied to spare his feelings?"

"All Rowan wants to do is badger Chase about who was to blame. Chase doesn't need that. He wasn't to blame; I was."

"So this is guilt?"

"So what if it is?" House retorts as he pulls away from his best friend and heads for the kitchen. "His father doesn't want to personally care for him; he wants to hire a group of trained monkeys to do the job for him and boast that father knows best, which is crap."

"And you…what, wanted to step into that fatherly role?" Wilson asks in mild surprise; House's back to him tensing but his lips saying nothing in return. Knowing his best friend all too well, Wilson knows when even a small gesture is affirmation and for House to actually come out and admit it to him that he did it because inside he actually cares for Robert Chase might be millenniums in the making but this was a promising small step. "Wait until tomorrow and then call him and just see what's up. He's going to be pissed and rightfully so but maybe after spending a night answering his father's berating questions, he'll actually _want_ to come back here…or he might just want to stay at his place. He does have the right to choose."

House merely purses his lips and then looks at a small team picture on his fridge and feels his heart inwardly sink. _This is my fault…I have to make it right. Damn you Rowan…you don't care for your son…this is a power struggle and I intend to take back my duckling no matter what._

"Well…he picked the wrong doctor to challenge," House states with a small hiss as Wilson rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Challenge? This isn't…" Wilson starts only to have Wilson offer him a strained expression. "Would you listen to me?"

"What?"

"Has anyone ever considered that Robert will be the only one to lose in all this?"

"I…won't let him be alone."

XXXXXXXX

Chase looks at the unfriendly expression on his new helper and finds himself wishing that Bruno's gentle voice was making the request instead.

"I'm not hungry," Chase replies firmly as he man with the wheelchair nears.

"Your father says you have to eat and we are to aid with that. Now I'm here to help you."

Despite the rebelling in his stomach, Chase allows himself to be lifted by the rough hands into the wheelchair and then pushed into the quiet dining room; his mind already missing House's silly antics and often pointless banter and the TV playing something inappropriate in the background; the silence is suffocating, reminding him of a well-manicured tomb and taking him back to when he was often locked in his father's quiet study by his drunk mother.

"Come now Robert. Chef Nora has made your favorite," Rowan gestures to a place setting already laid out at the opposite end of the table.

"Are you joining me?" The younger Chase asks his father as he ignores the seating arrangement and wheels himself closer to his father.

"I will eat here tonight only. Tomorrow I go back to my hotel and finish with my training schedule for the rest of the week."

"Your…hotel room. Right," Chase replies with a soft, tight tone; his brain yelling at his face to paste on a placid expression and just get through dinner and then…_go back to my room alone? In an apartment full of strangers? Is there at least a TV here? A phone?_

"Eat your supper now Robert. And Chad here is going to make sure you eat your food while I'm not here or I'll have to prescribe a fluid supplement that will be given forcibly."

"Forcibly?"

"You would have that in a hospital."

"How long do I have to stay here?"

"Until you are better."

"I'm not your patient or your prisoner; I'm your son and a grown man, start treating me like it," Chase insists as he lightly pounds his fist on the table.

"Perhaps I am treating you like the ungrateful child you are displaying right now! And in front of these grownup's no less? I am only doing what's best for your recovery and this is my thanks? Your father?" Rowan counters with another manipulative question.

"Dr. House at least didn't…."

"I will not have that name mentioned in my presence again is that understood?"

"Why not? At least I felt wanted and needed there. Dr. House…"

"He lied to you and used his own personal guilt at your expense to appease his conscience and I won't hear his name again. Now time for supper."

"Fine," Chase answers with an exasperated huff as the plate is set before him. He slowly picks at his meal and knows if the situation and company was a bit more pleasant he would have happily devoured the five star meal and even asked for seconds. But as it is, he looks up to see his father's rather dissatisfied gaze upon him as he pushes his plate away and feels sorrow starting to engulf him. "So now…um what do we do?"

"Robert you are here to rest as much as you can. Physical stimulation will be kept at bay for…"

"But you said I could have a driver so can I at least…"

"Oh I don't think you've quite _earned_ that privilege yet," Rowan replies curtly as Chase seethes in return. "We'll see what happens in a week."

Chase doesn't reply, merely purses his lips and looks around the rather sterile surroundings. "Is there a TV here at least?"

"Yes a TV."

"And where are my personal things?"

"At your home waiting for you to return. You'll have none of those distractions here. You are here only to rest."

"Unbelievable…I am a prisoner," Chase mutters in an undertone as he pulls away from the table; Chad quickly stepping up to help. "I can wheel my own damn chair!" Chase snaps as he pushes Chad's hand away and turns away from the table, Rowan giving Chad a small wave to leave his son for now. Chase heads down the hallway and looks around; as suspected no phone or laptop…nothing for him to be able to communicate with the outside world. _I can't believe this…House wanted to keep me away from this. Did he know this is what my father had planned? But he also lied? I have to get out of here…go back to my place. I will do the rest of this on my own._

Wanting to see just what kind of escape route is offered, Chase nears the door and stares at it in horror, hearing soft shuffling behind him and turning to see his father watching intently.

"Where is the door handle?"

"Look up," Rowan instructs; Chase's soft blue eyes looking up and widening as they fix on a small electronic console purposly out of his reach. "When you can stand up and reach that on your own, you can leave on your own. That means walking out on your own."

"This isn't fair."

"This is for your own good and protection."

"I don't need protection."

"Your face suggests otherwise. You make a pretty easy target right now Robert and what happens the next time if your defiance causes the robber to pull a gun? Would you lie down and play dead? You shouldn't even be thinking about an excursion this soon after major surgery."

"I didn't go very far and I will be careful."

"You'll be here until you are strong enough to fight back on your own."

"You can't just keep me here."

"I come to visit my son at a stranger's home…"

"Dr. House is not a stranger."

"I find you sick, beat up and passing out in my arms under his so called tender loving care. Tell me Robert what am I missing here?"

"I can manage. I didn't complain and I was fine. Dr. House was taking care of it. I don't want this unfriendly prison," Chase utters in frustrated misery.

"Patients don't always know what's best for them. That's why we are paid…well what we are. Now you can go and watch some TV an…"

"Will you join me?"

"I am not a fan of TV Robert, but I'm sure you'll find something to amuse yourself with on one of the many stations."

"How about a game of chess?"

"I don't play."

Chase remains in place; his back to the solid handless door and looks at his father with a firm gaze. "Was there ever a time when you could honestly say to yourself and to me that you loved me at all? Even once?"

"What do you want to hear?" Rowan inquires.

"The truth," Chase states firmly.

"The day you were born," Rowan replies as he turns to leave. "I was stone drunk that day."

Chase feels himself completely sag with emotional defeat into the wheelchair as he watches his father turn and walk away, disappearing into the kitchen area and leaving him alone in misery in the quiet hallway. _As confirmed…he never loved me…not even once, _Chase's mind laments as his eyes water once more, his fists curling as he turns and glares up at the door in heated anger; the door keeping him confined in the highly priced prison. _He did all this to get back at House? That's the only reason? Did he drug me also? Would he even go that far to get back at House? All I am is a pawn now?_

XXXXXXXX

"You're wallowing. Never seen you wallow over Chase before…actually I've never seen you wallow over anyone," Wilson notes as he and House sit in House's quiet living room later that evening; House tossing his cell phone on the table after trying Chase's home and cell number again and getting nothing.

"There was a time when Cuddy…and I'm not wallowing. I'm thinking."

"About?"

"Revenge."

"Right because that's the mature approach to this all. Maybe he's just avoiding you," Wilson banters back.

"And that's mature?"

"He's earned it, you haven't," Wilson states pointedly.

"I have to make this right."

"Am almost afraid to ask how. Does it involve storming a castle?" Wilson quips as House looks over at him with a glare. "What? I'm sure if he's at home and wanted to talk to you he'd pick up or if he wanted to leave his father's unloving care he would," Wilson states, not knowing his words were farthest from the truth and that the younger Dr. Chase was desperate to leave his father's unloving care.

"Why would he stay? His father doesn't care and he knows that."

"You lied also. He has the right to protect himself you know," Wilson argues back.

"He shouldn't be alone right now; he can be alone when he's walking."

"He's scared and rightfully so. Facing death is sobering and forces thoughts and emotions to come up and make us think things we had wanted to forget. You call his father..."

"My mistake," House grumbles.

"Rowan shows up and Robert thinks his father maybe has a small shred of paternal affection inside to offer and since he's never had it maybe considers lowering one of those walls a short time to see if his father really does care."

"He doesn't and I heard him say it."

"And if he did then he's trying to process all these emotions alone so that he can come back here or wherever on his own terms. Wait a day and then tell him why you want him here. He's probably at home sulking after the discussion with his father," Wilson concludes with a heavy sigh. "I know I would and so would you."

"Lying bastard," House mutters under his lips as Wilson just shakes his head and stands up.

"See you tomorrow."

House offers a small nod but remains fixed in place until he hears the door close and then slowly gets up and heads for the bedroom that Chase had occupied until a few hours ago; his mind already missing Chase's friendly banter and his ears longing to hear the distinct tonal foreign accent that he come to be fond of of the younger Dr. Chase. He leans in the doorway to the empty bedroom and utters a heavy sigh before he flips off the light and bathes the area in darkness.

"I'm sorry Robert," House whispers before he turns and slowly heads toward his bedroom and closes the door; his mind determined to make peace with Chase the following day. _Goodnight my little duckling…I hope you are sleeping well…because if not…_

XXXXXXXX

"Ahhh!" Chase shouts as his fists pound against the solid door in frustrated realization, his body leaning forward until he's almost falling out of the wheelchair; his hands quickly pulling him back just before he can slip out and land uncomfortably on the floor. _He's helping me merely to get back at House! Damn my father! _He leans back in the chair and hangs his head; no one instructed to come to his aid or offer even the smallest word of concern or comfort.

Chase finally lifts his weary head and then slowly pushes himself back down the hallway toward the room of his new prison-like home. He would have to admit that going out and being attacked was foolish but he never asked for it and when Wilson had admitted that it was House's intuition that he was in trouble and came to his aid just in the nick of time that he didn't say 'thank you' enough. _House knew I was in trouble and wanted to help; my father…he only wants to get back at House…he…he doesn't care…he never did…_his mind trails off in sorrow. But between House's lies and his father's obviously false sense of caring concern, Chase now wonders where he does belong and if he indeed would have to face the long road to recovery alone?

Chase reenters the small unfriendly bedroom and looks around; his mind telling him he's in a cold institution with no means of escape and only strangers to look after him. _So much for healing_. He nears the bed and looks at it in frustration and then down at his legs and curses them bitterly. Wanting nothing more than to go to sleep and wake up hoping the nightmare is over, he grips the bedspread with both hands and pulls; his legs dangling uselessly beneath him. He manages to pull himself up onto the bed and flops down in misery, looking at the clock and wishing he was back at House's so they could playfully argue over what crummy TV show to watch; his mind recalling fondly how House even helped him onto the couch so he could watch in more comfort. _Would my father do that? _With a sad exhale to the obviously rhetorical question, he turns off the light and rolls onto his side, praying he'd at least wake up back in his own apartment.

That prayer would not be answered.

* * *

**A/N:** oh our poor little duckling. So am drawing out a bit more of the helpless Chase angst until he can figure out a means of contacting House and House coming to help him. I hope you are all liking Wilson in this b/c I think if House would turn to anyone it would be his BFF. So will House go to Chase's apartment? What will he find? And where exactly is Chase? What will House's first showdown with Rowan be like? Feedback keeps us going so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	6. Further into Despair

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 6 – Further into Despair**

* * *

The following morning, Chase awakens from a fitful and restless night with a lingering headache and a tight stomach. He turns on the light, hoping to see himself back at home in his own bed, or second best at House's, looking at the picture he had brought from home. However, his face offers a rather dissatisfied frown as he quickly realizes he's still in the luxury prison his father had brought him to the night before and now puts a firm plan into his mind to find a way to escape. _The staff can't just keep me here…its unlawful confinement, _his mind tries to argue in return. His father had not admitted to drugging him and he could only think that if that were true, his motive wasn't to do him physical harm but to get him away from House at any cost. _Did he think I'd stay here willingly? _No…his brain argues back…._why do you think he found a place with that fancy door you can't open on your own._

Chase looks at the empty space beside the bed, his nose picking up the faint but distinctly aromatic smell of coffee coming from the kitchen and then curses his stomach for sending forth a hunger pang thanks to his meager pickings from the night before.

"Hello?" Chase calls out with an exasperated sigh. About five minutes later, Chad appears with the wheelchair and nears him.

"Morning Sir," Chad greets with a small nod as Chase looks up at him with pursed lips.

"Morning Chad, you can call me Robert."

"Course Sir," Chad replies to which Chase merely offers a small huff as he tries to hoist himself into the chair; looking at Chad in anger.

"Am I not allowed to do anything on my own?"

"I just didn't want you to fall out."

"I have fallen out several times already!" Chase snaps and then sinks into the chair, mentally berating himself as they leave the small bedroom. It wasn't Chad's fault or any of the others that are now under the employment of the world's most uncaring father; he couldn't fault them for doing their jobs as hired to do. It was his presence in this high priced hell that was now forcing his irritation to skyrocket.

"Morning Dr. Chase," Kari greets with a kind smile. "Would you like your shower before or after breakfast?"

"Robert…please," Chase huffs as he looks at the attractive woman before him. He looks away with a small wince and once again finds himself wishing for Bruno's kind voice asking the same question. He turns back, allowing his eyes to linger on her shapely legs and instantly finds himself cursing his inability to do anything but sit and stare in misery. Chad was out of the question – his calloused hands felt like they'd break him in half at any second and being naked in front of him, another strange man, was…_not going to happen. Bruno only or no one!_

"Might I ask how you'd lift me into the bathing chair? I assume you have one right?"

"Oh we'd manage," she answers with a sweet smile.

"You don't have a chair?"

"Could always give you a sponge bath," she lightly flirts and his face can't help but warm; but it quickly turns to a frown when he realizes that he would not be able to act on his would be obvious sexual stimulation. _How can I be naked around her when I can't do anything about it,_ he laments inside. _That is torment. Is that my father's game? To show me I still has control no matter what? That he's in charge of everything?_

"As much as I would like that…maybe when I start therapy?"

"Sure."

"Okay so since there will be no sponge bath…how will this work?"

"You can undress or if you want Chad can help although I doubt you'd want to. That would be weird right?"

"Is he straight?"

"Yeah."

"Well Bruno was too and it was…okay after…besides you can't lift me into the other chair."

"Well he could put you in there and then I could slowly undress you and give you a sponge bath?"

"Right…maybe later," Chase states meekly. Once again he couldn't fault her for wanting something more and if he had merely a one broken leg it wouldn't have been a big deal; she'd be in his arms and Chad would be history. _However…his legs were at this point useless and so was he in that area. So much for no physical stimulation. _

"Okay. Well I have a few things to do," Kari tells him as Chad comes into the room. "I'll see you after breakfast okay?"

"Sure."

Chase is wheeled into the lonely dining room and stares at the empty table in misery; his mind begging for some light banter as he and House would in the morning. _I can't believe I actually miss House calling me 'wheels'._

"Did my father say what time he'd be here today?" Chase asks Chad just before Chad exits the room.

"I don't think we'll see him today," Chad answers in truth.

"Thank you."

Chase offers Chad a nod and then looks around as the silence starts to pummel him with its strong arms. He pulls back from the table and then heads into the living room; flipping on the TV and turning to the news; desperate to have another voice in the uninviting space.

"What do I do all day? Sleep? Surely he's joking. I wonder if House has bothered to check up on me or maybe not? Am I really stuck here until I start rehab?" Chase's one sided conversation dies out into a sorrow laden exhale. "I have to get out…but how?"

XXXXXXXX

"Robert?" House knocks on the door to Chase's apartment with a determined knock. "Open the door or I'll blow your house down," House smirks as he presses his ear against the door and then pulls back with a frown. Never one to let a mere locked door stand in the way of his plan, House quickly looks around to make sure no unwanted eyes are watching and then proceeds to pick the lock and enter the quiet apartment.

"Very…Chase," House muses as he looks around the silent abode and then slowly leaves the hallway and enters the inter sanctum. "Come out come out wherever you are duckling," House offers in a loud tone in case Chase is still asleep. He nears his bedroom and pokes his head inside, stepping fully into the doorway and muttering under his breath. House flips on the light and then looks with a narrowed gaze at the busted picture on the floor and heads toward it with angry, determined steps.

"Rowan," he growls as notices Chase's wallet, phone and keys and feels mild panic starting to creep into his soul. _No phone…no laptop…stop over thinking this…_his brain commands…_it's not like Rowan's taken his son somewhere and ensured he can't call out._

"Course not…cuz he's one of the good guys," House muses to himself as he looks back down at the picture and then bends to pick it up, clearing away the glass fragments so that none would snag Chase's bare foot when he happens to come back home. He looks at the pile of clothing and personal effects dumped on the bed and feels his teeth grit – everything House had brought to his apartment for Robert was brought back. "What's did he take for his son? Nothing?"

_"I'm busy," Wilson's exasperated huff is heard on the other end of the phone. _

"I'm putting out an APB on Robert."

_"Where are you?"_

"He's not in his apartment and his phone, wallet and keys are here."

_"Okay that's…odd. But Rowan didn't kidnap his own son."_

"Chase wouldn't go willingly. I have to find out where he's staying."

_"Please tell me you are not going to…House…no, leave this matter alone. Robert will come back…"_

"What if he can't?"

_"Can't? You make it sound sinister. Maybe he is with his father."_

"I can pay a visit to anyone staying at a public hotel. Promise I'll only hit him once," House chirps to which Wilson just sighs in return. "Call you soon."

_"Hou…" is all Wilson manages before the line is cut off on purpose._

House scrolls back through his texts and finds his first text from Rowan. The one where he had asked Rowan if he was going to fly out from Melbourne but then Rowan texting back that he was staying at a local hotel; even giving the name and room number.

He wastes no time in closing up; taking Chase's phone and apartment keys with him and heading back downstairs as fast as he could go. On the ride to the hotel, House's mind reminds him to not make a scene if Robert did in fact want to stay with his father. _Why would he do that! _House's mind internally growls as he nears the five star hotel.

"This place is cold," House huffs as he heads for the entrance, nodding to the concierge and then making a line right for the elevators. He impatiently taps his cane against the side of the mirrored box as it climbs to a floor near the top and then gets out, his eyes quickly looking for the room number. "Wonder if they rent by the hour."

House offers a stern knock and then listens; silence once again greeting him, making his agitation rise. He jiggles the door handle and then turns to see one of the housekeeping ladies looking at him intently. "Forgot my key and my wife's in the shower," House states sheepishly as the curious woman nears. "Wouldja mind?"

"May I know your name Sir?"

"Rowan Chase. You can call down and confirm if you want," House urges. Sure enough the housekeeper calls down and confirms, looking up at him with a small smile.

"I don't remember a wife."

"She likes to pretend. But I need to get inside. I always forget something," House sighs as she puts her master key into the lock and then allows House to push the door open.

"I'll be making up the room shortly."

"Oh you can leave it. I don't need anything new today."

"Very good Sir."

House watches her leave and then quickly slips into the room and closes the door. But as he turns around he looks at the space before him in surprise. One King sized bed, a few suits in the closet but…no signs that anyone else had been there; much less his son, currently in a wheelchair.

"Maybe he took my duckling sightseeing," House utters in sarcasm as he looks around for any signs that the younger Dr. Chase had in fact even been there. Upon seeing nothing his frown deepens as he pulls his phone. "Chase is missing."

_"Missing what?" Wilson groans._

"I'm here in Rowan's hotel room and there are no signs he was ever in fact in this room. The room has a king sized bed and I know they're not _that_ close. And before you ask, yes I checked and he doesn't have his own room in this hotel."

_"Do I even want to know how you got into Rowan's room as I'm assuming he's not there?"_

"Poor housekeeping. I have to find where he's hidden Robert."

_"Hidden? House, go to work and call Rowan later."_

"I like the personal touch better," House huffs as he hangs up and then heads out of the room, purposely allowing the door to slam behind him and his brain now racing as to where the younger Dr. Chase is being held.

XXXXXXXX

"Got it…" Chase huffs as he leans back in his chair; getting the same dead end explanation from Chad as he did from Kari and Nora that he wasn't to have any contact with anyone on Dr. House's team and that they had even been given the names of House's team and who to look out for; Rowan not knowing about Wilson, only Park, Adams, Taub and Foreman and of course House himself.

_Maybe I can get a note to Wilson…but how? I was told they'd get me my medication under my father's name._

"He just wants what's best for you?"

"But I should be able to decide that for myself shouldn't I?"

"He said he knows best. Father's do right?" Chad lightly argues back.

"My father knows what's best for him. He likes to control if you can't tell. Why are there no phones even? What if there's a fire? Or some other kind of emergency?"

"We'll call."

"And did he say why I cannot? You don't find that odd? Or do you just not question?"

"I…" Chad starts and then stops, his face displaying a heavy frown. "He said that Dr. House is dangerous for you and said he was the reason you were attacked and didn't want it to happen to you again."

"As much as I'd like to believe his actions are motivated by genuine concern I can assure you they are not and I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Promise I won't tell if you just let me make one call."

"I'm sorry Sir I can't do that."

"Well I can't just sit around and watch TV all day," Chase snaps and then quickly lowers his tone. "I feel like a prisoner, not someone being looked after by a medical professional. He didn't ask me if I wanted to be here."

"He said he did and that you haven't been yourself lately and this is for the best. Do you have a drug problem?"

"What? No…did he say that?"

"No. I just assumed. I mean he didn't want you making calls so assumed you'd call…"

"A friend? I do have friends that would like to come and visit," Chase states firmly as his anger continues to boil. "I would like to make a call or even send a text to at least one friend to let him know I am okay. He'd be worried."

"Your father said he talked to your friends and they all agree. Just one more week okay?"

"I am almost out of medication," Chase implores as he tries another tactic. "That my father knows I need it for recovery."

"Kari will get your refill when you need it. How many pills do you have left?"

"A few. And which doctor is she going to?"

"Not sure. I can ask."

"I'll check on the remaining amount and let her know."

"Okay."

Chase watches Chad walk away and feel his frustration surge. _How is this better for me? What's next? I am not allowed access to sharp objects? _Chase feels his fingers tighten around the handles of the wheelchair as he goes in search of Kari.

"Are you wanting a shower now Dr. Chase?"

"Robert please," Chase insists as she offers him a sweet smile. "I am almost out of my medication. How does that work, because I will need a refill before the week is up?"

"I can get that for you."

Chase looks at her and offers himself a small inward groan, that despite the fact he's wheelchair bound he's actually considering flirting with her to get what he wants – a message to House.

"Is that all you want to get?" Chase replies with a coy smile; the pretty nurse's face instantly turning a darker shade as she offers a very telltale giggle. _Okay focus now…you can't do anything until you start your therapy. _"Sorry," he slightly coughs as she shakes her head and of course takes it upon herself. "I was just wondering which doctor you'd go to? I mean it would have to be one at Princeton Plainsboro as they'd have all my files there," he softly rambles on, hoping she'd believe him and help him unwittingly get a message to the outside world.

"Yeah of course. That's where I meant," she nods in agreement; giving Chase the first clue about her medical credentials; or lack thereof. _Is she an actress?_

"Did my father give you a name?" Chase continues to press.

"Doctor Michaels?"

"Yeah he's good. Good friend of the team also."

"He's a…you mean Dr. Hou…I mean your team?"

"Oh yes he and Dr. House are very close…very close," Chase replies with as straight a face as possible; his mind picturing House's sneering face at the man House calls the inept doctor of the decade. Course House usually has choice words for anyone he considers inferior and that was most everyone around him. He had gotten off quite easy with duckling and wombat; at first feeling a bit of disdain toward silly titles but now finding some parental affection in them; especially duckling as that would entail a senior duck to look after him. And as much as he would verbally deny the need for outward paternal affection, a small part inside did crave it; affection…approval…maybe even some fatherly attention. Even just once he had longed to hear his father say he was proud of something he accomplished.

_'Mother, when's father coming home? I got an A today and wanted to share it with him. I know he'd be proud. I'm going to be a great doctor.'_

_'He's gone Robert, gone for good.'_

_'But he'd be proud.'_

_'He doesn't care.'_

"Are you okay?" Kari's question breaks into Chase's thoughts before he can continue to dwell on the fact that he never had a father to praise his achievements and had given up on the dream of ever hearing it out loud.

"Yes sorry. Do you have…another name?" Chase stammers.

"Dr. Morris?"

"Doug Morris…yeah he's great. Dr. House would definitely approve of you using him to help me."

"Really?" She looks down at the paper in her hands and then back up at Chase with a frown. "Dr. Eng?"

"They play squash together. Even better," Chase replies in haste, looking at her in surprise as she merely shrugs. _Obviously she doesn't know House can't play squash, _Chase's brain chides as he tries to think of something.

"Does he get along with everyone?"

"Oh yes he's quite the people pleaser," Chase lies with a straight face. "Always trying to be helpful. Yeah the staff there love him…well almost everyone. A few don't."

"Oh? Why not?"

"Well he got into it with one of the um…doctors about something and they haven't spoken since. Yeah that was a few weeks ago. It's caused a bit of tension and sadly I can't see them making up anytime soon," Chase finishes with a small snort as he looks up at her with a smile. "But am sure the others would be happy to help out. Anything for a friend right?"

"What's um…this other doctor's name? You know just out of curiosity?"

"James Wilson."

XXXXXXXX

House watches Rowan enter the lobby of the five star hotel and narrows his gaze but decides not to do anything until he was knocking on his door; so he waits for him to get into the elevator and disappear from view before he slowly gets up off the couch, exits his hidden vantage point and heads for the same set of elevators, getting into the one beside it and heading for the floor close to the top.

He deliberately ignores the text buzzing in his pocket from Wilson and gets off the elevator, heading for Rowan's hotel room and reminding himself not to get into a physical altercation. Words, even yelled or spoken in anger could be rebuffed but a physical bruise would be hard to downplay. _But I still want to hit him!_

House listens to the silence and raises his hand to knock but just as he does he hears a noise and turns to see one of the hotel staff heading toward him with a dinner cart; and is instantly seized by another opportunity.

"Is that for Rowan Chase?"

"Yes Mr. Chase in room…"

"1630. Right on time…that's my room."

"Ah very good sir."

"Put a really big tip for yourself on my bill," House offers a wink as he takes the cart; sending the hotel clerk away with a very happy grin. House lifts the first lid and looks down at the high priced meal with arched brows before plucking one of the stuffed oysters and popping it into his mouth and offering a screwed face as he swallows.

"Tastes like rubber," House mutters as he turns and gives the door a hearty knock. "Room service."

"Ah right on…time," Rowan opens the door and looks at House with a narrowed gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"Moonlighting. Foreman keeps my tips at work," House huffs as he tries to push the food cart into the hotel room.

"You can't come in."

"Why not? Afraid I'll see something I shouldn't?"

"Robert isn't here."

"I'm here to talk to you actually. I know shocking isn't it? The oysters are spicy."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"Really spicy. Have you talked to the younger Dr. Chase today?"

"I have," Rowan lies as he holds his ground before House, not moving at all.

"What about?" House inquires as he pulls away and slowly starts to pace the space behind Rowan.

"What do you want Dr. House?"

"I want to know what you want from your son?"

"You care?"

"If you are hindering my employee's rehabilitation, forcing me to overwork my other employees, causing them to be upset at me for no reason then yes I do care about my mental sanity."

"I'm sure your staff will manage quite well. Now Dr. House you are wearing your welcome thin."

"I am very interested to know why I tried to call Robert and he didn't answer or return my call."

"Maybe he's resting. We all want him to do that don't we?"

"He is allowed contact with the outside world."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you," Rowan states pointedly.

"Or maybe you won't let him?" House challenges back as he pulls Chase's phone. "What's he supposed to play angry birds on?"

"Your time is up Dr. House," Rowan looks at him with a narrowed gaze.

"That struck a nerve. Are you keeping your son locked away like Rapunzel? He cut his hair you know. I liked it longer but he's still is a hit with the ladies."

"That's nice, now leave before…"

"And if you have him locked away in some castle like Rapunzel I would like to know what you think that will accomplish?"

"He can cal…"

"I have his phone…his wallet…his everything. So unless you have supplied him with a whole army of trained carrier pigeons then how is he supposed to keep in touch with…"

"He doesn't need anything from you Dr. House and is perhaps avoiding you on purpose. Now I won't ask…"

"I think you're afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of me."

"I don't know what your game is but…"

"I really like your hand writing," House pulls out the crumpled note and holds it up for Rowan to see. Rowan's hand reaches out to snatch it back but House quickly pulls it back and stuffs it into his pocket and offers Rowan a tight lipped smirk. "What did Robert think of this little love letter? Or did you even tell him? Did he really go with you willingly? Or did you bribe him in some way?"

"After seeing his condition I didn't have to convince him that staying with you was bad for his health. You're lucky I don't have you charged with assault."

"You'd have to get him to testify to that. What other lies did you tell him to make him go with you? What lies did you feed him to keep him…well wherever he is?" House demands firmly.

"I don't have to listen to this."

"I am told the truth hurts," House retorts.

"Are you finished?" Rowan asks with an exasperated sigh.

"Where is he?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rowan leans in closer; his tone short and clipped.

"Well he's not at home and obviously not here; unless he's hiding in the bathroom. So…where is he?" House asks directly.

"Time to…" Rowan makes a move to step by.

"Where?" House counters as he moves his cane to block Rowan's steps; forcing the elder Dr. Chase to stop before tripping. "Is he locked away where you can badger him to your little black heart's content?"

"That's enough! He's my son and…"

"Oh now you feel some parental inkling toward him?" House counters, inner emotions starting to come to the fore, forcing him to nearly betray his inner fatherly feelings toward the younger Dr. Chase; feelings he had worked very hard to keep hidden away from the general public.

"And that bothers you?" Rowan goads with a daring glance.

"Your choice of menu items bothers me. But I am wondering why all of a sudden you are interested in your son's wellbeing?"

_Resisting the urge to tell House that it's merely to get back at him, _Rowan folds his arms over his chest and holds House's glare a few seconds before answering. "I don't answer to you. Now as you can see Robert is not here."

"He's not at home either. He couldn't have gone out without his wallet unless you gave him your credit card?"

"I have the right to prescribe what I feel is best for my patient…"

"Son. You slipped up there and let the real Rowan Chase come out. Where is he?"

"Get out."

"Does Robert know what you're doing?"

"Get out before I call hotel security!" Rowan warns as he pushes past House's cane and heads for the hotel room door. "Robert is resting and you'll see him when he can walk."

"You won't even stay with him while he recovers?"

"He's not a child and doesn't need a babysitter like you."

"Oh no a hypocritical jailer like you is much better," House retorts in sarcasm as Rowan seethes. "At least I can tell Wilson he was wrong."

"It just bothers you that Robert is under my care and not yours," Rowan states smugly.

"Care? More like incarceration or maybe kidnapping?"

"Leave before I call the police!"

"I'll be back," House quips angrily as he heads for the door. He gives Rowan a small stare before he gets out into the hallway and pulls his phone and quickly texts Wilson.

_'This is war.'_

* * *

**A/N:** So will Chase get a message through the unwitting nurse to Wilson? Will House find where Chase is being kept by his father? And if so is a second visit to Rowan in order? I would love to know what you all thought this update via a review and thanks so much! A bit more to come and hope that's okay


	7. Message in a Bottle

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 7 – Message in a Bottle**

* * *

Chase finishes his meal and then looks up at Carl at the other end of the table and offers him a strained smile; his mind trying to fight against the notion of him never being found until he could actually walk out on his own. He had tried to reason with the three of his keepers at different points during the day but each kept firm to their conviction that they were simply employed by Rowan Chase to look after his son, who, despite saying he's a doctor didn't know the best care and they weren't to listen to his complaints about leaving. They also said Rowan warned them about bad associates out to do him harm and this son was disillusioned about them wanting to do him harm. After the second attempt at trying to reason with them all that he is of sound mind and not wanting to do himself further personal harm he gave up and just read or slept.

"It's good," Chase states simply.

"Yeah Nora outdid herself tonight," Chad replies briefly as Chase looks back down at his plate.

For a split second Chase glances over at the sharp steak knife and considers stabbing himself in the leg…a tad harsh but it would force the paramedics to come and take him to the hospital. _You are being overly melodramatic…_his brain chastises. _Aside from the silence, this place isn't that bad. _NO! He inwardly argues back. _I'm not staying here…it's still a prison!_ Well you can't just get up and walk out either can you. _Maybe Kari went and saw Wilson today?_

"Did Kari get my prescription filled this afternoon?"

"No I think she said she'd go tomorrow. Are you out?"

"No I have a few left," Chase replies with a miserable sigh as he leans back in his wheelchair and looks down at his legs, longing for them to move under him; stand up and help him get to the door and outside into freedom. He quietly excuses himself and heads back into the hallway, making his way toward the door; staring up at the electronic keypad in misery as he had periodically the past two days. _I'm not fully paralyzed…I can walk I just need…do I chance it? I have to try right? I fall down…I've fallen before! Just try. Get up! Do it!_

Chase's fingers grip the sides of the wheelchair after he locks it; being a mere few feet away, his mind and eyes fixed on the console well out of his current reach. _Just stand up and push the damn button! _His mind goads as he takes a deep breath and tries to push himself up. His left hand remains on the hand rest of the wheelchair, while his right strains to get upward to the black electronic square and touch the emergency override button.

"Damn," he softly curses as he slumps back down in misery. However, he looks back up with an angry glare, his father's mocking face looking down with a smug smile.

_'When you can reach that on your own you can leave this place.'_

With another determined breath to reach the electronic keypad and take back his freedom, Chase pushes himself back up. But the strain on his left side where he's recently had surgery, quickly takes its toll and he crashes back down, his body missing half the base of the wheelchair and landing with a painful thud on the floor.

"Dr. Chase!" Chad exclaims as he rushes toward him, Chase trying to flip himself over and get back into his means of mobility.

"Leave me alone!" Chase growls as Chad takes a step back.

"Are you hurt?" Chad asks in concern.

"No…no I just…I just want to leave this damn place!" Chase huffs as he looks up at Chad in misery. "Well help me up already," he snaps as Chad's arms help hoist him back up into a seated position in the wheelchair. "I can't stay here…"

"You just need to rest okay?"

"I've been resting all day! That's all I do. I am tired of resting! I am not an invalid! Can't anyone around here see that? I don't belong here!" Chase growls as he tries to push past, Chad stepping out of the way and letting him head down the hallway and disappear into his room. Chase remains in place, looking at the bleak landscape before him and feeling his frame sag further down into the chair. He looks over at the medical journals his father had left and mutters under his breath. _I wonder if House has gone to my apartment? Surely he would have contacted my father right? Wouldn't he have asked? Would my father have told him where I am? If he did, House would be here – if for nothing else but to mock the lame staff. No, my father never told him; he wants House away. I have to get a message out. I need Kari to get to see Wilson…once he gets the last name he'll know. He'll know it's me. He will right? But will he tell House? Will he suspect something's wrong? What if he doesn't? What if this plan backfires? I'm out of options! Well sane ones._

Chase's mind swirls with unanswerable questions as he remains fixed in place a bit longer before he dares to peer out into the hallway once more. Upon hearing nothing, he slowly heads back toward the kitchen and upon finding it empty, retrieves a long cutting knife from the drawer and heads back into the hallway toward the door. _Maybe I can pry the door open? Or at least find out if I can. Otherwise…I might be forced to slip a note under the damn door!_

Chase shoves the sharp end of the knife between the door and its frame and pushes, desperately wanting to pry it open; his strength not being what it is normally but quickly realizing that his current plan of escape wouldn't work. His right hand comes to rest on the handle but just before he's about to pull it back, he hears a noise from behind and quickly turns; cutting his hand in the process.

"Ahhh!" Chase yelps as he pulls his right hand back, a few droplets of fresh blood sailing to the floor or landing on his black sweatpants.

"Dr. Chase!"

"I'm ok…"

"You're really bleeding."

"I said I'm fi…"

"Hold on…I need to clean that!" Chad states in a panic as he quickly turns Chase's wheelchair around and pushes him into the bathroom; Chase sticking his hand over the sink and glaring at the crimson droplets in anger. _I should have cut deeper and earned a trip to the hospital. _

"Did you try to cut yourself on purpose?"

"What? No! I tried to pry the damn door open…ouch."

"Sorry."

Chase's face crunches into a small wince as Chad crudely cleans the cut but bites his tongue; his mind remembering House's rather delicate care when he was cleaning his cheek after the fall. _I can't believe I'm saying this, but I actually miss House._

XXXXXXXX

"Hey Dr. House," Bruno greets House later that evening, as House heads for Wilson's office, knowing his best friend would be working overtime.

"Hey Bruno," House offers absently as he heads for the elevators to go up; Bruno in tow. "Working late?"

"Yeah my mom fell and hurt her hip. She doesn't have anyone but me and her insurance ran out. This extra shift will help her a little. How's Dr. Chase? I just gotta know…did I do something wrong?"

"Wrong?"

"Figured I wasn't called back because I offended him or you. I just want you and him to know…that wasn't my intention. I thought we got along well."

"He's…visiting...someone right now. He'll be back soon."

"Okay well if you need anything Dr. House, you know I'm your man."

"I'll remember that," House nods as he offers Bruno a curt smile and then heads toward the quieter part of the hospital.

"I can hear you scheming," Wilson huffs, not looking up from his paperwork. When he finishes his sentence he watches House slump down into the chair before his desk and looks at him with a small scowl. "Did you expect Rowan to just welcome you in with open arms?"

"He didn't know I broke in earlier," House insists.

"Good thing or he might have gotten a restraining order against you."

"Doesn't it bother you that he's put Chase up in some fancy prison somewhere but won't even stay with him or let him call out?"

"Okay I admit it's odd that he would just up and leave without leaving you…I saw that before remember?" Wilson retorts with a small groan as House holds up the note Rowan left for House to find.

"He admitted to keeping Chase…somewhere. And he's not even staying with him. So much for personal care!"

"Okay so I'm worried also," Wilson admits as he looks at House's expression that looks back with a small triumphant glare.

"We have to get him back. Can I have his credit card traced?" House muses as he looks out the window into the darkened night sky and then back at Wilson's expectant expression.

"Well he will have to get his meds refilled right? If I can recall you said he'd be on them for two weeks, one week at a time. Flag Chase's name in the system and when his father comes to pick them up…"

"Follow him?"

"Well it's not unheard of and following someone isn't illegal," Wilson counters. "It's creepy but not illegal."

"Then I can hit Rowan with my cane?"

"I don't know who I feel sorrier for right now, Robert or his father," Wilson gently teases. "You'll find him soon okay?"

"He deserves better," House nods as he slowly stands up to leave; Wilson's plan seeming to be the only one so far making sense and saving him even a minor jail sentence.

"Than his father?" Wilson replies.

"Than me," House answers stonily as he turns his back on a somewhat stunned Wilson and heads out of the oncologist's now very quiet office and disappears from view. Wilson quickly makes a note in the system to flag Chase's name for any reason at all and decides to call it a night also.

"I wonder where Chase really is."

XXXXXXXX

Chase looks up at his hand in misery; the crude bandaging that Chad had done was starting to show, as a small smattering of red starts to seep through into the crook of his palm. After Chad had finished with his hand, he had wheeled Chase back into his room and helped him onto the mattress and left with the wheelchair; Chase unable to do anything more than lie there in silent misery.

He lifts his hand and feels his eyes water; not out of sorrow, but out of angry frustration. The apartment was quiet…all the time; the staff rarely engaged him as they were told he was to be resting the bulk of the day; the food was very enjoyable but the situation made it almost taste like bland cardboard. _I can't take much more of this._

About twenty tormented minutes later, Chase looks up from his mental stupor as Chad and Kari enter the room.

"What's going on?" Chase asks in wonder as Chad nears him. His eyes look from Chad to Kari and finally notice the syringe in her hand and suddenly his panic starts to skyrocket. "What is going on here?"

"Just try to remain calm okay?" Chad instructs as he gestures for Kari to go around to the other side of the small bed.

"Chad…what is…that…for," he puts his arms up only to have Chad firmly push them back down; his legs unable to come up and kick Chad away.

"Your father said if you tried to hurt yourself we were to give you this," Kari replies matter of factly as she prepares to jab the needle into his side.

"What? I didn't try...what is that?" Chase asks in desperation; his mind angrily cursing his useless legs.

"Morphine."

"What? No…I don't need…I was trying to pry the door…listen…it was not on…purpose,. I did not hurt myself on purpose!" Chase states as his panic races and his heart start to beat painfully in his chest, his brain panicking and telling him to calm down or he could do serious damage to his recuperating system. _I have a heart attack and I blame my father!_

"Please hold still now," Kari instructs with a small frown as Chad grabs each of Chase's wrists and holds them at his sides; his heart racing and his mind frantic to escape this surreal nightmare.

"Please no…" Chase begs. "I don't need…I just wanted to open the door…did you tell him it was…an accident?"

"Okay hold on…there we go."

"I'm okay…did you tell my…father…it wasn't...on purpose. He's to blame...I just wanted..." Chase's voice trails off as he feels body temperature elevate slightly. Morphine would keep him subdued while not rendering him fully unconscious, more like sleepy until it wore off. "I'm okay…did you tell him I'm…look I shouldn't be taking…this."

"He said it was okay and he's the doctor right?"

"I'm a doctor also!" Chase snaps as he feels a small inner surge and then takes a deep breath and settles back down. _Okay this is only for tonight and then…damn him. _

"He wants you just to rest now."

"Why the hell doesn't he come…and tell me that…himself," Chase huffs as he starts to feel the potent sedative taking effect; his arms now sluggish at his sides and his vision slightly blurring as Chad turns off the small bedside light, bathing him in darkness. He watches Chad and Kari leave the room and grits his teeth, his arm almost too tired to lift and wipe away an angry tear; his mind fixing on the reddish-tinged bandage wrapped around his hand, the cut starting to really weep; his skin feeling the moisture but his arms too tired to do anything about it.

_This can't be…I'm not a patient to control…I'm his son! I'm his bloody son! _Chase's mind inwardly curses in misery as he turns his head and glances over at the door left slightly ajar. He looks at the light beckoning him to freedom and wishes more than anything that he could just get up and run to the door, get out and never look back. _I need to finish the rest of this rehab alone. From now on…I only take care of myself. I'll always be alone._

XXXXXXXX

House lies awake that night wondering just what kind of facility his duckling was being held in and how Rowan could use his own son as a pawn in a very pointless Ping-Pong game. _He doesn't deserve Robert, _House's mind inwardly sighs as he looks over at the clock and offers a whispered curse. He thinks about what Wilson had planned about tracking Chase's name in the system, but also what he said about his feelings for Chase.

_'I think it's great you have some paternal feelings for Robert. As much as I know he might never admit it openly; he needs you and needs the attention you give him. He's never had anything but neglect from his father and this manipulative battle that he's enduring right now is just enforcing that for him. But you need to come clean. He needs to hear you tell him you care; you can't assume he might know from the few snippets you toss at him. He needs something solid right now.'_

_'He needs better.'_

_'Don't sell yourself short. The fact that you are this determined to help him…'_

_'I want to beat Rowan.'_

_'If you didn't care even a little you wouldn't care to beat him. I know you remember?'_

_'And that is annoying.'_

_'Only because you know I'm right. We will find him and you'll bring him back home and then…then you gotta be straight with him. He's been lied to enough.'_

"He deserves better…a better father," are the last words to cross House's lips as he finally succumbs to the darkness and tries to settle in for a fitful night ahead. As suspected House's night is as restless as his missing duckling and he awakens in a worse mood than the morning before.

"Now take this and scram!" House huffs as he turns around to see Foreman watching him with a less than amused expression.

"Okay…wanna tell me what's really going on before I get another call about your less than stellar bedside manner?"

"There was nothing wrong with that guy. He just comes here because he's bored."

"Then stop giving him tic-tac's," Foreman shakes his head as he hands House a file. "Ready for some real work?"

"Always," House snaps as he snatches the file and then gives Foreman a shooing away motion with his hand. Foreman merely shakes his head as he turns and leaves; House pulling his phone and texting Wilson.

_'Nothing yet. I'll let you know when there's a hit. You know you could always check yourself.'_

_'Your legs are better for the secretarial role,' _House texts back and then opens the file; slowly heading for his office and his waiting team. However, as much as he knows he needs to force himself to pay attention to the new medical puzzle, he knows his mind will be wondering what Chase was up to and how he's faring in his father's high priced prison. _Maybe he does like it there?_

XXXXXXXX

Chase awakens the following morning with a slightly buzzing head and his mouth feeling dry like cotton; his mind replaying the events from the night before. _My father gave me morphine to keep me sluggish? Did they tell him the truth? I was trying to escape not hurt myself._

He looks over at the clock; the LCD numbers coming into full view a few seconds later and his arms slowly raising to rub his face; his uttering a low angry growl when they don't move as fast as anticipated. _Still feeing the aftereffects. Damn it!_

"Morning Dr. Chase," Chad greets him formally, Chase to tired and frustrated to try to get him to call him by his first name.

"I need…some water."

"Sure I'll get…"

"No…I want to get out of this bed and get it myself," Chase lightly snaps and then bites his tongue. "My back hurts from lying for so long."

"Sure…hold on a second, I'll be right back."

Chase can only groan as he watches Chad leave and then looks up at the plain, white ceiling and feels his teeth grit. _I need to get out of here…I need to leave…Kari is going today…going to see Wilson…Wilson will tell House right? _And then what? _And then home…my own home and just…do this my way._

"Okay….here we go," Chad reappears with the wheelchair and stops it right beside the bed. Chase looks at the mechanical device and tries to lift his arms toward it; but as soon as his cut hand rests on the firm handle and presses down, his hand retreats and his lips offer a painful gasp.

"I can help you," Chad states in haste as Chase looks up at him in frustration. "I'm sorry."

"I need…to leave this place. I want to go home," Chase tells Chad firmly. "Please?" He begs in a soft tone as Chad looks down at him with a heavy frown. "Please help me leave? I can take care of myself. Trust me I can."

"I'm sorry I can't. Your father hired me to…"

"And I understand that. But surely you can see this isn't helping me get better," Chase tries to reason once more; hoping his pleading tone would get through and Chad would just open the door and look the other way.

"I can't…"

"I…want to go…home. My home. My own apartment."

"But who will look after…"

"I can look after myself," Chase insists. "Please? Just open the door…and look away. I'll say it was me."

"I'm sorry I can't. I don't want to get anyone in trouble. Would you like to go to the bathroom?"

Chase looks up at Chad and can only nod; his brain holding back the angry curse as he knows it's not directed at Chad personally but at his heartless employer – his own father. _Who knows what other lies my father told the staff here to keep them on his side like this._ Chad pushes him into the large bathroom and then leaves; Chase giving him a small nod but telling him he wanted his privacy.

He looks at his rather ragged reflection and then leans in closer; his hand reaching for the small soap dispenser and his brain watching the item fly through the air and crash into the mirror and shatter. But in reality he merely places the solid object onto the counter, telling himself he'd probably just earn another dosage of morphine courtesy of his father. He looks down at his hand and can only shake his head as he knows he won't be able to push down for at least another day and would now be reliant on Chad if Kari didn't get the right message through to Wilson.

"This has to work," he whispers to himself as he nods in return and then gives himself a tight lipped glare in return. "I can't stay here another day. I can't."

Chase's eyes look around for a small towel and upon spying it, quickly grab it and then wraps it around his hand and bites back a painful gasp as he tries to get off the wheelchair without Chad's support. He slumps back in the wheelchair and hangs his head. "House…I'm sorry."

XXXXXXXX

"He's probably nearly out. Be patient. If you haven't seen his name in the papers then am sure you're fine," Wilson huffs as he looks away from House and back to his patient.

"Who's this?" The patient inquires.

"A figment of his imagination," House retorts.

"I wish," Wilson groans as he continues his exam. "Then I would just wish you away."

"I'll be back."

"How many times did you tell Rowan that?" Wilson counters as House turns to leave his office.

"Just once. But I said it in my best Arnold voice."

"Am sure he was scared."

"He will be when I go back," House chirps as Wilson just shakes his head and then looks down at his patient's chart. House reemerges into the hallway outside Wilson's examining room and stops; pulls his phone and then looks at Rowan's number; but instead of calling he merely curses as he heads toward the pharmacy. "Any prescriptions filled for Dr. Chase?"

"In the last ten minutes? No," the clerk replies in a dry, annoyed tone. "Come back tomorrow."

"Good luck with that employee of the month award," House turns on his heel and heads back toward his office, his hand pulling out a small trinket from his pocket and his eyes fixing on the item that to anyone else would seem – insignificant.

_'What is this? A Mexican good luck charm?'_

_'No its Australian and…never mind give it back.'_

_'No you gave it to me. Now you don't want to be an Indian giver do you?' _

_'House…'_

_'Chase…see two can play that name game. So what is this for anyways? Will it get me chicks?'_

_'Yes just rub it and make three wishes.'_

_'That's silly.'_

_'You asked.'_

"Where are you Robert?" House asks softly as he enters his quiet office and slumps down in his chair. He looks over at the table and recalls the last image of Chase sitting there with red hair and feels his lips twist into a small smirk before a heavy frown clouds his face and the fond memory dissipates.

"Where?"

XXXXXXXX

"When I get back, I'll get Chad to help you into the bathroom and then I'll give you a sponge bath okay?"

"Okay."

"I won't be long."

"Say hello to Dr. Michaels for me," Chase mentions casually.

"Oh I called this morning and they um said he wasn't in."

"Oh really. Can you still get my medication?"

"Am sure I'll find someone to help me. Maybe that other doctor you mentioned."

"Wilson? But he...there are others."

"I'll be back later."

Chase can only offer a glum nod and hope that Kari seeks out Wilson; his mind not caring now if she was just saying that Dr. Michaels wasn't available. _Just get to Wilson…he just needs to hear the name. Just the last name._

"Be back soon."

Chase watches her go and then looks at Chad as he pushes a code to lock the door; his body hiding the panel so that Chase was unable to see the four numbers keeping him prisoner. It didn't really matter that much as even if he had the number he still couldn't reach the panel and there was nothing around he could use to precisely punch in the code and open the door to escape. _She has to get to Wilson….she has to _his mind chants over and over not realizing that House himself had already mentioned the name of his best friend in passing.

XXXXXXXX

"Okay…and there you go…" Wilson hands his female patient her slip and then with a kind smile sends her on her way. He looks down at his buzzing phone and House's name on display and can only frown before he puts the phone down and pulls the door open to greet his next patient.

"Dr. Wilson?"

"Yes…Mrs. Lambert right?"

"No sorry. I was told to come and see you about getting a prescription filled."

"Okay but…when did I see you last? I honestly don't remember you, I'm sorry."

"Oh I'm not a patient, I need this for a patient. The attending doctor sent me. And I need some morphine. Here's the dosage."

"That's pretty high. Is this patient a relative of yours? Because I wouldn't prescribe this unless…" Wilson mumbles to himself as he starts to type on his computer.

"Here's the slip."

"Thanks and now…" Wilson pauses as he looks down at the name on the slip and then back up at the young woman before him. "This is for Dr. Rowan Chase?"

"Yes do you know him?"

"I uh…know the name. What's wrong with him?"

"Oh no this isn't for him…it's for his son, Robert. Do you know him?"

"I know the name," Wilson repeats slowly as he matches Chase's medication with the original that House had first prescribed; the original matching but the morphine really out of place. "How is he? His son?" He asks pretending this is the first he's heard of it.

"Oh he's doing good I guess," Kari shrugs and then frowns. "Resting and such. He's in a great place."

"Really? He likes it there?"

"Well sometimes he's bored but um…sure why not," she shrugs, her tone less than enthused or sincere. Wilson looks at her with a small frown as he types in the prescription for it to be filled.

"So he went there willingly?"

"That's what his father…I mean Dr. Chase said."

"Well as long as he's getting the proper rest, what happened was no laughing matter so he should be just resting as much as possible."

"Oh he's doing that for sure."

"Good to hear…and the morphine?"

"That can treat a hand wound right?" She asks casually; Wilson's back to her but his eyebrows instantly arching. _Is she for real? Morphine for a hand wound? Chase never injured his hand. Unless…_

"Depends," Wilson answers slowly as he turns around to face her. "What kind of hand wound?"

"Oh just a cut. But I don't think Chad did a good job of bandaging it."

"Chad?"

"He helps him with…stuff."

"What caused the cut?"

"A knife. Dr. Chase said to give Robert morphine to help him with the pain."

"So he attends to his son personally then?" Wilson asks, remembering that House said that Rowan admitted that Chase didn't need a babysitter and was alone.

"No Chad called him when his son cut himself."

_Something isn't adding up here. Hospital grade morphine for a cut to the hand? That dosage would keep…Robert subdued or…okay now I'm starting to think like House and cast sinister dispersions on Rowan. If Robert is there willingly…still why morphine for a hand cut? Something isn't adding up here. What's going on?_

"Cut himself?"

"Well not on purpose…or maybe. Sometimes he doesn't like it there," she stammers nervously. "So can I have it? I really need to get back."

_So he did try to leave? Wait a sec…he's not there willingly! _"Sure, just drop by…pharmacy and…how did he cut his hand? What was he doing?"

"He was trying to pry…"

But just as Kari replies the door to his office opens and his assistant appears telling him his next patient is waiting.

_Wait…did she say he cut it trying to pry the door open? What? No that couldn't be…if Robert was there willingly then he wouldn't try to escape…oh damn you House! Maybe he is being held against his will._

Kari yanks the paper from his hand and slips out as the next patient enters the room.

"I'll be…right back," Wilson tells the patient as he hurries outside and then spies Kari at the end of the hallway.

"Dr. Wilson!" Someone pulls his arm and turns him away from Kari.

"Mary…I'll be right back," Wilson pulls free from his assistant and then hurries back down the hallway, arriving at the pharmacy desk to find it empty and then turning to see Kari head through the exit doors and outside. "I can't believe I'm doing this," Wilson sighs as he races after her and pushes his way outside; watching her get into a car and then heading for the nearest cab.

"Follow that car," he offers with a heavy groan as he pulls his phone and sends a text to House.

_'I might have found Chase.'_

* * *

**A/N:** So will Kari go back to the apartment? Will House arrive to help free Chase from his gilded prison? Will Rowan find out and try to intervene? And who else will House enlist to help rescue his miserable duckling? Hope you all liked this update and are still liking the story and please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	8. Clash of the Titans

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 8 – Clash of the Titans**

* * *

"Do you have a car?" House hurries up to Bruno as fast as he could limp; tapping him on the shoulder right in the middle of one of his rehabilitation sessions.

"I do. You wanna borrow it Dr. House?"

"It and you," House states firmly as he looks at another therapist doing some paperwork in the corner. "You…Carl…"

"Me?" The other male therapist looks up in wonder.

"No your invisible friend. Course you."

"I'm Noel."

"You look like a Carl. You need to take over here."

"I can't…" Noel shrugs as House turns and glares at him, the therapist looking surprised but unable to retort in return.

"Now. Bruno I need you to come with me."

"It's okay Noel, Julia here just needs ten more reps," Bruno tells his partner and then turns to House. "Where are we going?"

"To rescue my duckling," House mutters under his breath, thinking that Bruno didn't hear.

"The zoo?" Bruno asks as House offers him a small smirk as the two of them head into the hallway. "I'm not going to get in trouble am I?"

"I know your boss. She likes me," House replies with a wink as they get into the elevator and he texts Wilson. _'Where are you?'_

_'In the back of a cab. I left a patient in the room. Do you know what that means?'_

_'I'm proud of you?'_

_'I'm in trouble because of you.'_

_'I'll talk to Foreman.'_

_'Oh yes that'll work because he is so fond of you.'_

_'I feel special. Now where are you?'_

XXXXXXXX

"Dr. Foreman," a familiar voice is heard at the same time Wilson exits the hospital after Kari.

"Afternoon Dr. Chase," Foreman greets Rowan with a tight smile as he nears; his mind in no way interested in the melodrama that was unfolding behind the scenes between House and Dr. Chase Senior. "Anything I can help you with?"

"I am looking for Dr. House but he seems to be eluding me. Do you know where he is?"

"I don't, but I can find out," Foreman picks up the phone on the nearest desk and pages House over the hospital intercom. "Everything okay?"

"Yes fine fine…I just have something I wanted him to have," Rowan replies vaguely as the phone rings back a few seconds later.

"He did? Okay thank you," Foreman answers and then hangs up and looks at Rowan.

"Well?"

"It seems that Dr. House left in a hurry…I'm sorry I don't know where."

"Anyone else might know? It really is urgent I see him."

"You can always try Dr. Wilson, Oncology. They're best friends. Otherwise I'm sorry but you'll have to wait until he comes back."

"Best friends…really. Very well thank you," Rowan replies with a less than enthusiastic expression as he watches Foreman pull away and then quickly retrieves his phone.

"Where are you?"

_"On the way back to the apartment," Kari answers in truth. "I was able to get Robert's prescription filled as requested and the morphine too."_

"Perfect. Which doctor did you see?"

_"Well Dr. Michaels was busy so I went to see Dr. Wilson."_

"Wilson? What? I thought I told you not to see anyone friendly to Dr. House!" Rowan snaps as he pulls away from the desk and hurries toward the exit doors.

_"But he's not…at least that's what…Robert…"_

"My disillusioned son told you?"

_"Yes he said that Wilson wasn't even friendly with him and you said that I was to go to…"_

"He's his best friend! I'm on my way there now," Rowan grumbles as he hangs up mid-sentence and heads for his car at top speed; his mind now wondering if another verbal showdown would be in order. "Damn you Dr. House. This is my business not yours!"

XXXXXXXX

"Do you know where this is?" House repeats the address to Bruno; the final destination that Wilson was now waiting at.

"Sure thing. Nice neighborhood. They got lots of fancy places there."

"I'm aware."

"Who are we going to see?"

"We're going to rescue someone," House finally admits as Bruno looks over at him in wonder. "It's Dr. Chase and before you ask…no I am not out of my mind."

"Well I had wondered why he just suddenly disappeared. But rescue?"

"Too melodramatic?" House quips with a frown.

"Nah it's cool. He's lucky he has someone like you lookin' out for him though. I sure hope he's okay."

"Yeah…me too," House finishes with a soft whisper, words he once again thought lost on the younger man beside him; Bruno this time saying nothing in reply. Bruno's car comes to a halt just outside the front entrance to the apartment that Chase is being kept in; House spying Wilson sitting inside the front entrance with his own perplexed expression.

"You want me to wait here?"

"Nope you are coming with me. I can't carry him if I need to."

"Carry him?" Bruno asks in surprise.

"That was purposely melodramatic," House retorts as he gets out of the car and heads toward the front door; Wilson letting them in.

"Welcome to Fort Knox…literally," Wilson sighs as he looks at House with an expectant glance. "Twelfth floor, apartment 6."

"Knew you'd come through."

"Still feel creepy. So what's your plan now?"

"Now we storm the castle and rescue rapunzel."

"Pardon?" Bruno queries in confusion.

"It really is Chase's fault he cut his hair," House shakes his head as he pushes through Bruno and Wilson and heads for the elevators; the latter two looking at each other in wonder.

"Don't ask," Wilson sighs he watches Bruno join House by the doors to the now open steel box.

"You're not joining the brigade?"

"As much as I'd like to see you rescue the damsel in distress I do have a job to get back to. Besides, I know you'll give me all the sordid details later."

"Party pooper," House tosses back, earning an eye roll from Wilson just as the doors close him from view.

"Is Dr. Chase really in trouble?"

"He just needs to come home," House offers softly as they ride the rest of the way in silence.

However, what House had failed to realize was that Rowan had indeed beaten him thanks to a traffic detour Bruno had mistakenly taken; come in the back door, avoiding Wilson and was already in Chase's high priced prison dealing with his son.

XXXXXXXX

Chase had been in his bedroom reading when he heard the door jiggling and then quickly wheeled himself out to see who had arrived. _Kari…did she talk to Wilson?_

"Back already?" Chase asks in surprise.

"Oh I think I screwed up," she moans as Chad joins them in the hallway. "I went to see Dr. Wilson…"

"You did?" Chase's tone lights a bit higher with anticipation.

"Yes but you said he wasn't friends with House and then your father called said he was his best friend and that you were disillusioned. And now he's mad and on his way here to fire me and…"

"No you didn't do anything wrong. Now listen to me…" Chase starts only to stop, Kari and Chad also; all three of them looking up as the door beeps and then is pushed open; Rowan entering and looking at them with a stern expression. "Father."

"They are done listening to your lies Robert."

Rowan glares at the three of them before he directs his attention to his son; his fierce gaze instantly forcing Chase to feel some remorse for the two hired people behind him and recoil a little further into his wheelchair.

"I want a word alone with my son – alone. You can each have an hour to yourselves…outside the apartment."

Kari and Chad waste no time in heading for the door as instructed; Chase watching with his mouth slightly agape that they didn't even offer the slightest verbal protest; leaving him alone with his irate jailer.

"You are quite the little ingrate you know that Robert?" Rowan hisses as he yanks Chase's hand forward and looks down at the slightly festering wound with impunity. "I am very disappointed in you."

"That…I'm used to," Chase yanks his hand free and looks up at his father with his own frustrated glare. "I don't want to be here any longer…alone in this DAMN PRISON!"

"Watch your tone. I have paid these people very well to look after you. They deserve…"

"Again about them…or you…what about me? What do I deserve?" Chase insists as he watches his father pull out a needle and small bottle.

"A good thrashing that's what," Rowan growls in an undertone.

"What is that?"

"Something to help calm you down."

"Morphine? So you can keep me drugged and compliant?" Chase seethes as his father nears. "I don't want any more drugs! I want to leave here and get some peace and be with people that want to help me get better."

"This is for your protection so you don't hurt yourself again!" Rowan growls as he tries to go around his son and get the upper hand to give him the need of the potent drugs.

"I didn't try to hurt myself! I was trying to escape this bloody prison! I don't want that."

"Robert you will take your medicine like a good patient."

Not wanting anymore of the pacifying drugs in his system, Chase quickly counters his father's actions; his left hand pulling back on one wheel and his right hand, lunging for the needle; forcing his father's loose grasp to open and the needle to clatter to the floor and break. "I have more in the car!"

"I don't want anymore! I don't want to be here and I won't stop trying to leave this place. I hate it! I hate you!"

"Now you are acting like a petulant child and just proving to me that you need supervision…I mean care…"

"Supervision to what?" Chase counters in anger. "I do nothing here but…well nothing. This isn't conducive to healing, it's making me worse! I'm miserable and lonely and…"

"So you cut yourself for attention? Trying to earn a free trip to the hospital to get House's attention?"

"It wasn't for…"

"That's very childish!"

"Childish? You tell me no physical stimulation and yet you get me a female nurse that implies sex more often than I can get my head around. Normally it wouldn't matter but I can't perform right now and you know that!"

"You can say no."

"You hire three people that say barely a few sentences to me all day and when I ask them to help me leave they suddenly turn into mute zombies!" Chase stammers, earning a small eye roll from his father.

"This is where you belong. Out of harm's way."

"Harm from who?"

"Yourself. And yet I see that still hasn't worked," Rowan huffs as he looks at Chase's hand wound.

"Neither of them have any real medical training do they? That's why this looks worse than it is! I'd rather stay on the street then spend one more night in this place!" Chase argues in return; neither of them knowing that now outside House was confronting Kari and Chad; using Bruno to take one of the electronic cards and waiting for the right moment to enter. "You can't stop me trying and you can only give me so many damn drugs before even you know the damage they could do!"

"Maybe next time I'll use a bloody straightjacket!"

"There isn't going to be a next time father. I'm not staying here a moment longer!" Chase insists.

"I said if you can reach the keypad you can leave."

"That isn't even human!"

"You can't even take care of yourself and now you are pushing away the one person that wants to," Rowan tries to twist the argument to make his son feel guilty. "I extend my stay and spend my hard earned money to ensure you…"

"I'm not falling for your false affection father. I know you don't care, you are just trying to manipulate me into feeling guilty and I'm not falling for it," Chase states outright. "You did all this to get back at House or get me away from House…either way your intentions weren't directed at me because you care they were to get back at House!"

"You accuse my intentions like that?"

"You never cared before. I know the stabbing incident made the medical papers. The only reason you came is because Dr. House called you and then you only decided to stay when I went to stay with Dr. House."

"He's not your father."

"Neither are you!" Chase bellows. "You never were! You're nothing but a cruel bastard!" Chase growls, his pent up emotions getting the best of him.

But in the seconds that follow three worlds collide as Rowan's hand comes up and offers his son a firm slap to the face, the exact same moment the door opens and House witnesses his duckling being hit by his own father; forcing his anger to surge and him to pull away from Bruno.

Chase's left hand rests on his stinging cheek as Rowan looks up and narrows his gaze as House nears with a very cross expression.

"Dr. House what are yo…" is all Rowan manages before House reaches him and punches him right in the jaw; Rowan's head snapping to the right as he steps back. He quickly counters and looks at House with a seething glare. But before he can make another move, Bruno steps up; his formidable size telling the doctor before him that to try to take on the former football blocker would be a big mistake.

"Told you I'd be back!" House quips in angry sarcasm.

"That's assault Dr. House," Rowan hisses.

"I'll get Robert to press charges later…against you! You did hit your own son after all. I might be crippled but I'm not blind!" House states defiantly as he remains in a heated gaze with Rowan; Chase looking up at both and then over at Bruno with relief.

"Come to rescue your pitiful employee?" Rowan chides as House's fists curl at his sides. As much as his mind portrays him pummeling Rowan with the end of his cane until he was unable to move; he hears Wilson's voice of reason in his mind warning him that he was allowed the one punch to counter Rowan's mistreatment of Robert but that would be it. _Don't ruin it. _

"I came to take Robert home."

"He's my so…"

"No…he's not your son!" House looks at Rowan in heated contempt. "You're nothing more than a hypocritical jailer."

"I'm his doctor."

"A hospital room without a door handle or key? That's a prison to me."

"That's not your call. He's my son."

"You don't deserve him."

"Whatever you think is not relevant here. In fact you are butting in on a very private discussion that I was having with my son. Now I want you to take your bodyguard and…"

"You can't keep him here against his will."

"I told him the terms of his…."

"Release?" House snaps. "Only a jailer would say that. Robert do you want to stay?" House asks directly as both him and Rowan look at the younger Dr. Chase who promptly shakes his head no.

"I never want to see you again," Chase tells his father directly.

"Sounds pretty clear to me," House muses.

Rowan narrows his eyes at his son before he looks up at House in anger; his hand grabbing for the handlebars of the wheelchair to keep his son with him; aiming to stop House from taking him as Bruno takes a step closer.

"Step away from the chair Sir," Bruno warns in a low but commanding tone.

"He's with me," House smirks as Chase prepares to wheel himself out of the room.

"Your Neanderthal here doesn't scare me Dr. House. That chair is my property."

"Robert isn't," House counters matter-of-factly.

"Well unless he can walk out of here, he's staying. That's all he's had to do to leave here. The door without a handle was merely motivation to…."

"To what? Remind him that he's dependent on a man that gets his sick pleasure on torturing his injured son? Keeping him prisoner? Yeah that's very conducive to healing!"

"He's ungratefully milked his injuries so that he can garner sympathy from everyone around him. He's mastered the art of manipulating feelings. Trust me he's only after attention from anyone who can give it including you. Unlike me, you've been duped by his lies and innocent looks and his false…" Rowan's voice trails off as House looks down at his duckling's dejected expression and feels his heart sink. _That was the misery he was faced with every day? To be left alone in a solitary prison and tempted with freedom but never given even the smallest taste? To be told he was the one lying to himself and everyone around just to get attention and this was his just reward? To be taken to this solitary hellhole by a man who helped give birth but in reality doesn't give a damn? No wonder he looks pale and weak. This ends now. My wombat is coming home where he belongs._

"Bruno," House gestures with his head down to Chase.

Bruno steps up and with a swift motion scoops Chase up into his strong grasp, Chase giving Bruno a nod before he looks at his father in remorse.

"I am walking out of here," Chase tells him firmly as he then asks Bruno to take him out of the room.

"You didn't say on whose legs it had to be," House leans in closer, giving Rowan a small sneer. "I held back for Bruno's sake. Young people shouldn't be subjected to gratuitous violence. But had he not been here…well I don't have to tell you where the end of this cane would have ended up. If you ever come near Robert again…you ever touch him like that again…and I won't care who's around."

"Is that a petty threat Dr. House?"

"No…it's a valid warning," House nods as he holds Rowan's gaze a few seconds longer. "You know what's really pathetic about you…Robert might only ever be my employee…but I at least know what he's worth….you _never_ did."

And not allowing Rowan to get another word in, House turns and heads for the front door, his palm offering a very audible slap to the electronic key pad before he tosses back the card he had taken from Kari and disappears from view, Rowan's eyes narrowing with seething contempt as he offers a curse in House's name.

_'Did you get in trouble?' _House texts Wilson.

_'I said you made me do it. How's Robert?'_

_'Back where he belongs.'_

_'Promise me you didn't do anything stupid.'_

_'Rowan was there. Define stupid.'_

_'Did you hit him?'_

_'Only once. But he deserved it. He hit Robert just as we entered.'_

_'What? He hit his own son? Really?'_

_'Really. Definitely not getting that father of the year award. I'm taking my duckling home.'_

_'House…tell him the truth.'_

House finishes texting Wilson as he exits the building and heads for Bruno's car; Chase safely tucked into the backseat. House nears the open door and looks down in concern.

"Great timing," Chase offers with a soft tone.

"You okay?" House asks in haste.

"Fine," Chase replies with a defeated expression; his eyes threatening to water and begging House not to press the issue at the present moment.

"Let's go home. Bruno…"

"Yes Sir," Bruno replies with a smile as he pulls away from the curb and heads for House's apartment. On the way down, Bruno had told Chase how upset House had been the past few days at his absence and was happy that Chase put his mind at ease in saying that it was his father to blame and nothing the gentle giant had done in incur the younger Dr. Chase's sudden silence.

_'To be honest…I missed having you around,' Chase had told Bruno in the ride down in the elevator; his mind somewhat unsettled at having to be carried but at the same time taking some comfort in knowing that Bruno would never think less of him and had actually helped him escape his high priced hell. _

_'Well if you need anything today you let me know okay?'_

_'I wouldn't mind a shower…later.'_

_'Okay.'_

"Thanks Bruno," House gives the younger man a warm smile and friendly pat on the back after Chase was settled on House's couch in his living room.

"I'll be back later," Bruno promises as Chase gives him a friendly smile and soft 'thank you' before he watches House and Bruno disappear and then leans his head back on the couch and closes his eyes; allowing them to water from sheer frustration and relief.

House quietly peers around the corner and offers Chase a small frown as Chase finally looks up and locks eyes with him.

"I'm sorry he hit you," House states kindly as he nears Chase and eases himself down onto the couch beside him, looking at the younger man in misery.

"I guess I had it coming somewhat…" Chase smirks nervously, "for what I called him."

"He is a cruel bastard. The truth shouldn't hurt that much," House frowns as he looks at the small bruise adorning Chase's pale cheek. "I really wanted to hit him again for what he did."

"He showed his true colors," Chase shrugs with a heavy sigh as he looks away; not wanting to show himself too emotional in front of House. Without warning House pulls away from the couch and disappears from view once more, Chase looking after him in wonder. He quickly rubs his face; the morphine residue coupled with the miniscule amount of food still leaving him sluggish and agitated; the restless past few nights leaving him tired.

House returns with his first aid kit and then sits down beside Chase, silently taking his hand and looking at the damp bandage in displeasure. "Trained monkeys," he mutters under his breath, earning a small smirk from Chase. "Boy they made a mess."

"Well I didn't help myself much did I?"

"You had every right to want to escape that place," House reminds him firmly as he gently cuts the bandage off and then stares at the sticky wound in anger. "Yuck."

"Hurts to."

"Stop fidgeting then," House playfully scolds as Chase's face offers a small smirk but not a genuine smile. "Wanna talk about it?"

"It was hell," Chase whispers as his face scrunches with a heavy wince as House starts to gently disinfect the festering cut. "If Kari hadn't gotten that message to Wilson…I might have been stuck there forever."

"Or at least until you could walk," House replies under his breath, looking up a few silent seconds later to see Chase watching him in misery. "Your father is cruel. Were you really that bored?"

"Tried to pry the door open," Chase huffs as he House applies a bit of pressure to soak up some clear fluids to clear away the few bits of growing infection but frowning as Chase's face doesn't soften quickly. House hears the despondency in Chase's voice and feels a small lump of emotion starting to form in his throat as he notices Chase trying to offer him a firm expression; his soft blue eyes however, threatening to break down at any second.

"He made a really big mess."

"I pushed down on it the right after."

"Hold still a second longer," House instructs as he applies a numbing agent to the wound and then pulls out his travelling stitch kit. "I have better toys."

"Thank you."

"He just needed to…"

"No thank you for getting me out of there," Chase warmly acknowledges. "I couldn't have taken it another day…not another day."

House looks at his defeated expression and holds back a quick comeback; pausing for a few seconds before offering him a tender gaze and nod. "You're welcome. Missed having you make me coffee in the morning," he can't resist adding; smiling as Chase's face offers a small smirk.

House finishes with the few dissolving stitches and then gently pads the top and wraps a soft bandage around it. "Stay away from my swords for the next few days," House quips as Chase offers him a small smile and nod. "Be right back. Hungry?"

"Actually I could use a Big Mac."

"Settle for leftover lasagna?"

"Sounds great."

House exits the room to put the supplies away and then heads into the kitchen with Chase's wheelchair, his mind racing with horrible thoughts as to how desperate Chase must have been to want to use a knife to pry his way to freedom and then even more frustrated with the terrible patch job. His mind replays the scene of the door with no handle and Rowan's taunt about his son walking to freedom and what Chase must have felt that first night alone in that cruel prison. _No way to escape…no one to call…and no one wanting to help. _He really is a cruel bastard, House's mind chastises Rowan.

He goes about starting to make a late lunch but upon hearing only silence coming from the living room, House takes a chance to peer around the corner to see what was going on? Instead of seeing Chase sitting up and waiting for him, he gazes upon his duckling now asleep; turned onto his side, his freshly bandaged palm facing up and a very peaceful expression adorning his boyish features; dirty blond lashes resting atop freshly flushed cheeks. The security of being someplace he wanted to be had finally lulled him into a genuine rest; his body more than begging for some solid rest. House quietly nears him and drapes a blanket over his frame; Chase's upper body slightly squirming but his eyes remaining closed.

House slowly kneels down and narrows his gaze at the small reddish mark on Chase's cheek where Rowan had hit him and feels his anger surge. _How could he hit his own son! _As he continues to watch over his duckling as he sleeps, Wilson's words fill his head:

_'You have to come clean with Robert. You care about him. You have to tell him. This can't just be about beating Rowan in a would be parental showdown to earn bragging rights over who's the better guardian. He needs to know someone genuinely cares about him. Someone he actually trusts. Someone he actually likes. You need to tell him the truth.'_

_'I will tell him…I just need the right moment.'_

* * *

**A/N:** I hope you all found the title to this chappy as fitting as I did and hope you liked the more heated feeling of showdown #2? Thoughts? Did you like House coming to his ducklings rescue? With Bruno's help of course. Rowan is a piece of work and I wanted him that way but also wanted him to give House a real excuse to pop him one hehe. So think there will be any further backlash? Or will Chase finally get the rest he deserves? But will House actually find the right moment to tell Chase? Or will he just take it for granted that Chase will be fine? What underlying tension is still building? Would love your thoughts on this so please do review before you go and thanks so much (it will determine how much longer I make this story)!


	9. A Feeling of Security?

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 9 – A Feeling of Security?**

* * *

Chase finally awakens a few hours later, his eyes slowly opening to see House a few feet away, in another chair silently reading.

"What time…is it?" He softly inquires with a small yawn, his arms stretching up and then coming to rest at his sides; his body too content in its warm nest of covers to think about moving.

"Time for you to make us dinner," House retorts with a small smirk to which Chase's face returns the smile. "It's five. You slept the whole day away," he gently scolds to which Chase purses his flushed lips and rolls onto his back, rubbing his face before his hand pulls back and he looks at his bandaged palm before glancing over to meet House's gaze.

"Do you think I'll hear from him again?" Chase dares to wonder as he looks away.

"If he knows what's good for him you won't," House replies matter-of-factly. "How'd he get you to go with him in the first place?"

"He showed up at the door…we talked…he gave me my meds with water and then…I woke up there," Chase relays as he twists his head to the right and looks at House. "I think he drugged me."

"I was right."

"You knew?" Chase's eyes widen in wonder.

"Well I told Wilson he drugged you. See if he takes you again then I can charge him with kidnapping."

"He better not take me again," Chase argues back; House's face breaking into a small smile.

"I won't let him," House states firmly to which Chase feels some inner comfort in House's protective words.

House studies Chase for a few silent seconds before Chase starts to feel like he's being inspected and arches his brows at House in wonder. "You look weak."

"I feel it. Damn morphine didn't help either," Chase sighs as he looks at the clock. "Do you think Bruno would be able to come back tonight?"

"Feeling icky?"

"Actually yes," Chase nods as he looks back at House. "I know my father took my things but…"

"They're all back," House tells him in truth as he hands him the roving phone. "Bruno's welcome here anytime."

Chase mutters a small 'thank you' as he watches House near him, gently helping him get to a seated position. Chase looks over at the wheelchair and then down at the phone in his hand but feels remorse starting to settle upon him. _My father only wanted the control…it was never about me, _his mind laments in silent sorrow. _But why did House really bring me back here? Does he really care or was it just about proving to my father he could? He said earlier he gave a damn but…but it's not the same. Should I ask? _But his mind quickly recalls the words his father had spewed forth about him just wanting attention so he decides not to push the issue at this time.

"Damn…" Chase lightly curses after the call as he tries to reach for the wheelchair and then stops as he looks at his hand; not wanting to damage the fresh stitching that House had tended to. He looks down at his legs and then tosses back the blanket, arranging them so that he might stand up and try to see if he could put some pressure on them. _You can't do this just yet…you need physio and crutches!_

"I need a bell," Chase smirks as he tries to pull the wheelchair closer; frowning when he can't reach the brakes to get them to unlock and the chair to move forward.

"I can't be at your beck and call all the time," House lightly retorts as he comes back in the room and gazes upon Chase's frustrated expression. "Your hand will heal soon."

"I feel dependant again," Chase groans as House helps him into the wheelchair and he sits for a few agitated seconds before looking up with a lost expression. "When can I start physio?"

"A few more days grasshopper," House chirps in response. "You were stabbed in the heart remember? Plus you look like hell…in a few days your hand will heal…you'll have rested up and I'll have fattened up…"

"Fattened up?" Chase snorts as House grins. "I sound like dinner."

"Oh don't worry the wicked witch of the west had both Hansel and Gretel to eat…you're alone…no main course after the appetizer," House tosses back as he unlocks the brakes.

"Am I the appetizer?"

"You could be…or dessert. Bruno would make a very nice main course."

"Yes there's a lot to him," Chase lightly grins. "Although…I did miss him."

"More than me?" House rebuts.

"Oh never more than you," Chase retorts with a serious expression as he slowly follows after House into the hallway; his agitation starting to subside as they pause outside the door to Chase's bedroom. "I just didn't expect him to go that far," Chase states in a glum tone as House turns and looks down at him with a frown.

"Pardon?"

"My father."

_'You have to tell Robert you care…' _Wilson's voice of reasoning rebounds inside House's mind as he fixes his worried gaze downward at the younger man before him. As he looks at the rather defeated expression on Chase's face, his mind shows a picture of him offering Chase a comforting hug, holding him close and telling him that he needn't worry about his loser father anymore as he would now look after him and offer him all the fatherly attention and comfort he'd ever want. That moment doesn't come – yet.

"His methods were a tad extreme," House adds in a quiet tone as he leans against the wall. "I'm sorry he used you as a pawn," House offers in a tender tone as Chase looks up and nods but says nothing further; a few seconds later gesturing with his head that he'd like to enter his room. House steps aside and lets him pass, his mind racing with something comforting to offer but his lips not offering anything in the moment.

Chase nears the bed he had been longing for for the past few days and then looks around; his eyes resting on the familiar things that House had brought from his apartment and once again arranged to make him feel at home. He feels his eyes water as he recalls his father's strained words about him milking attention and now wonders if that's why House won't engage him in further discussions about his father.

_'He's an ingrate…milking his injuries and you've fallen for it. He's a lying manipulator and has been all his life…'_

Chase shakes his head as he looks up and sees House watching with a heavy frown and then quickly pastes on a tight lipped smile. "It's um…a bit dusty in here."

"I'll remember to tell the maid that tomorrow," House offers in a kind tone as he slowly enters the room and then eases himself down onto the edge of the bed and rests his chin on his arm which is resting atop his cane; Chase looking at him before looking away, his eyes resting on the dresser where a picture of him and House resides, along with his laptop, phone and other personal effects.

"Missed my laptop," Chase states with a semi-nervous tone as he looks over at House.

"It missed you too," House answers as Chase looks away with a somewhat glum expression; his eyes fixed on the wall ahead and House looking at him in wonder. "If you don't like the décor w…"

"What my father said…" Chase quickly interjects with a small intake of air as House looks at him in surprise, "I just want you to know…he's lying. I only ever wanted to secure my freedom. As much as I wanted to get out, earning a trip to the hospital under the guise of suicide watch wasn't it. I wasn't trying to cut myself on purpose…to get attention. I know he said those things to…" Chase pauses as he nervously bites his bottom lip and then looks up at House with a crushed expression. "I wasn't lying."

"You actually thought I'd believe a word he'd say?" House counters; his lips pursing as Chase offers a small nod. "You obviously don't know me very well," House offers lightly.

"He made it seem…I asked them every day to just open the door and look away…just to open the door…I wanted to get out…I didn't want attention…I wanted freedom, nothing more."

For a split second, House sees a little boy before him, looking up at him with large blue eyes, a pleading, uncertain gaze, asking his father in a small tone if he was in trouble and what the punishment might be or if he might be shown some tender loving concern. _Help me…_the small boy pleads in sorrow and House has to give his head a firm, invisible shake to force the image of a helpless little boy before him to fade.

"Are you worried I'll bring home a case of morphine and keep you shackled to your bed?" House inquires in a low, dry tone.

"No I just…"

"There's a reason I hit him. He's a brute and I'll never let him near you again," House promises as he holds Chase's watery blue gaze a few seconds longer. "He'll never hurt you again."

"Okay," Chase nods as his lips twitch upward into a small smile. This time it's his mind showing him as the small boy, his arms reaching out to his father for a hug…just to hold him and offer some comfort after the fright of his life. But the image fades as House echoes 'okay' and then pushes himself up off the bed to go and make dinner; leaving Chase alone in the room. _He does care right?..._but the his mind argues back about the pact that he had made with himself about not having to rely on anyone like he did before. _You are feeling especially vulnerable right now after the showdown and your father's hurtful words and the hit and because of your legs and now your hand…that will pass and you'll get your life back – you don't need anyone._

"That's right…I don't need…anyone," Chase whispers to himself as his mind quickly recalls his father's scolding words. _'Robert's nothing more than a manipulative ingrate. I haven't fallen for it…you have. He'd do anything for your attention Dr. House…he's a clever little lying manipulator…he always has been. Why do you think he's never been with just one woman…he craves the attention…he'll do anything for it…'_

"Like father…like son…" his lips slightly tremble as he utters the words and then feels an inner shudder down to his numb feet. "Never…I'll never be like him," Chase vows as he wheels over to the dresser and pulls it open, smiling at his personal items and trying to block out the rather impersonal prison he had just been extricated from. He quickly swallows back a small slump of emotion and then closes the drawer; his mind urging him to focus on anything other than his own emotional misery. _You are feeling pathetic and emotionally needy after the showdown with your cruel father…suck it up and get over it._

"Right…" Chase tells himself firmly as he heads back into the hallway and pausing for a second. He quickly turns and looks at the door, for a split second being flashed back to his prison and glaring at the door with on handle; his father's evil taunting laugh in the distance. But as he hears House muttering to himself in the kitchen, his eyes watch the prison door leave and the regular door appear, handle and all.

"Smells good," Chase comments as he enters the kitchen and then tries to reach for something House had arranged on the plate.

"Ah ah…you'll spoil your supper," House lightly taps Chase's hand as Chase looks up with a mock pout. "Well I can't spank you right now so a tap will have to suffice. You pout really well by the way, but I'm still not falling for it."

"I know I'm hungry but…three plates?"

"We're having company."

"Wilson?"

"No Wilson is busy sucking up to Foreman after he led the charge in today's duckling raid."

"Wilson did?"

"Left a patient in his office to follow Kari. Made me proud," House utters in pride.

"I'll have to thank him for that. And Foreman was okay with that?" Chase asks in shock.

"Actually no…so that's why Wilson is needlessly sucking up," House nods as he holds the plate for Chase to take one of the small appetizer morsels. "It's still not the pout," House teases as Chase takes one of the crackers with the fancy cheese spread on it and tastes it.

"Very good."

"You sound surprised," House retorts as a knock is heard at the door.

Not waiting to be told to get it, Chase heads for the front door to open it. For a few brief seconds, his mind once again zooms back to a few days ago, opening the door to his father standing before him with a cross expression…this time, however, he's forced to watch as his father enters and he loses a battle in which he's forcibly subdued, his tied wrists pulling in vain to get free as he's taken from House's apartment, never to be seen again.

"Hey Dr. Chase," Bruno's warm voice pulls him back to reality, chasing away the morbid image and being replaced with a kind smile and friendly greeting.

"Welcome," Chase replies with a smile as he pulls back and allows Bruno to enter. _House invited Bruno for dinner? That's more than welcome._

"Ah the third musketeer has arrived. Now we can eat," House announces as the three of them gather around the table, Chase's anxiety continues to dissolve as the three of them engage in friendly banter over a delicious meal. Chase looks at the mismatched plates and glasses and smiles – perfection wasn't needed – only caring friends and good company; such a vast difference from the dismal dinner situation he had been subjected to two nights earlier.

"Who's Carl?"

"Oh Bruno, tell our dear Dr. Chase here who Carl is."

"Well Carl is Noel and Dr. House called…" Bruno's voice trails off into the story as Chase listens with amusement, casting a glance at House who visually denies him calling the surprised physiotherapist by the wrong name. The meal, while maybe not five star by all standards, was enjoyable and more than satisfying; allowing Chase to finish his plate and lean back in his chair feeling genuinely content for the first time in days.

"Well I am full…" Chase utters, relieved he doesn't have to spend his time wondering about his next escape move and just relish in the friendly company around him; knowing that if he so wanted he could leave at any moment.

"You should eat more so I can fatten you up a bit," House teases as Bruno looks over at Chase and wonder.

"After that he'll eat me," Chase deadpans as Bruno chuckles and looks over at House who offers a serious nod. The three of them talk a bit longer before Bruno suggests giving Chase his shower and then calling it a night; saying he had to get home to help his mother who was still awaiting surgery and needed his help to get around.

Chase takes off his t-shirt, grabs some new clothes to sleep in and then wheels himself down to the now warm bathroom; entering the doorway and looking in surprise at Bruno in his swim trunks.

"You okay with this?" Bruno asks as he closes the door for added privacy.

"Sure," Chase nods as Bruno heads back to him and gently removes his sweat pants and black underwear and then transfers him to the plastic bathing chair. And unlike before with Carl who was so clumsy and nervous just getting him into the regular wheelchair, Bruno's fluid movements kept his fear of being mishandled at bay and he's able to relax despite being fully naked before another man.

Chase watches Bruno turn on the water and then wait for the perfect temperature before turning around to him. While he waits, he casts a glance to the right and looks over at a small little yellow rubber ducky looking back at him; his eyes casting upward to Bruno in question.

"That was here when I entered. You think Dr. House showers with a rubber ducky?"

"I think this was for me," Chase smirks as he plucks the little plastic toy into his grasp and smiles at it.

"He called you duckling earlier…what is that?"

"A nickname," Chase shrugs.

"Kinda cool. You know like the older duck looking out for his younger duckling," Bruno smiles as Chase places the small duck back onto its perch.

"Bruno you can call me Robert."

"Okay, do you trust me?" Bruno inquires as Chase looks back at him.

"I…do," Chase replies with a bit of hesitation. And before he can react Bruno's large hands lift him under the armpits and help him get upright; Chase feeling a bit lightheaded as he's brought to a self-assisted standing position for the first time in days. He feels himself starting to slip a bit and quickly grabs the handicapped railing, earning a small smile from Bruno.

"I got you Robert…I've held bigger guys than you; trust me you won't fall. Dr. House was telling me it's good to put some pressure on the legs before you start physio and I wasn't sure if your father offered any kind of assistance in that regard. The other fella I saw looked kinda…skinny," Bruno chuckles. "You can hold on if want, but I won't let you fall."

Chase's hands grip the rails as he looks down to see his feet firmly planted on the ground. But as soon as he feels some tingling in his soles he looks up at Bruno with a somewhat watery gaze.

"Does it hurt?"

"No…" Chase insists in haste. "It feels…like…hope," he whispers as Bruno smiles as he hands Chase the soap. "Either one of us…no matter to me." Chase starts to wash himself a bit, his mind racing as he feels Bruno's hands on his sides holding him firmly in an upright position. He hands Bruno the soap and then holds onto the bars for a few minutes as Bruno starts to wash the areas he can't get. There was nothing sinister or perverse about Bruno's touching him and he didn't feel violated in any way…he was just relishing in the feeling of being able to stand on his own, with help of course, for he first time in a week.

"Thank you," Chase whispers as he's finally lowered back into the bathing chair, his arms too tired to help keep him upright for the rest of the wash.

"You're welcome, but thank Dr. House, he said this would help you and he knows best right?" Bruno replies with a kind smile as he finishes washing his feet and then hands him the soap so he could finish the rest if he so wanted.

"He does."

"Just don't try it without me. You could fall and hurt yourself."

"I won't," Chase promises as he watches Bruno step out of the steamy shower cabin and reach for a towel to dry off and disappear. Chase leans back in the plastic bathing chair and then looks up at the rails; his mind feeling elation for the first time in days. His father's ultimatum was to force him to dwell on misery, but House had arranged for Bruno to help him see that harsh measures weren't warranted and that a kind hand fostered healing faster than a stern one. _Did House really arrange this? Or is Bruno just being modest? _

"I needed that…" he tells himself as he finishes his wash and then turns off the water, wheeling himself outside the steamy cabin and reaching for a towel to dry off with. After he had dried all that he could, Bruno would reemerge to finish drying him properly and then help him dress in something clean and comfortable for the night.

"Now you don't smell icky," House teases as he joins them in the hallway as Chase slowly walks Bruno to the door.

"Good enough to eat?" Chase snickers as House nods and licks his lips, earning a small eye roll from Chase and an amused smile from Bruno.

"Duck liver is very tasty," House states with enthusiasm.

"Now he's getting carried away," Chase lightly scolds as House grins and shakes his head in disagreement. Bruno takes his leave, saying goodnight and that he was ready to be at Chase's beck and call if so needed. House turns and looks at Chase in concern, Chase looking up in wonder. "What?"

"The shower…Bruno helping me stand…you did that?"

"Figured you were tired of sitting," House replies in a warm tone. "Was I right? Course I was. That was rheotrical," he smirks as Chase nods and smiles.

"Yes but thank you. It felt…well scary at first but I needed it."

"Bruno's a good man," House states in truth as he looks down at his watch. "Past your bed time young man."

"I had a nap earlier remember?" Chase counters to which House's face cocks to one side and Chase grins.

"Porno it is," House snickers as he heads into the living room and grabs the remote. "Actually I think a hockey game is on. Ohh how about Anaconda? You know J-Lo was still hot in that even though she wasn't…well J-Lo."

"She still was," Chase argues back. "She just wasn't as…"

"J-Lo as she is now," House retorts in triumph as Chase smiles but shakes his head. And despite the fact that he knows he's tired and his body screaming at him to just close his eyes and get some added rest, the fact that he's with someone who treats him as a person not a prisoner or medical experiment; forces him to push himself past his limits. But it's not too long before his eyes finally close and his head lolls to one side, House turning down the volume and looking at Chase with a small frown.

_How could he treat his own son like that? _House's mind inwardly growls as he gently pushes the chair into Chase's bedroom, the younger man offering a soft 'thank you' through slightly parted lips, but his eyes never opening. He helps get Chase onto the bed and then slowly pulls the covers over, hovering over him a few seconds and smiling as he silently muses over the fact that Chase does smell good – freshly cleaned. "Goodnight…Robert," House whispers as he turns off the small bedside light and exits the room, his heart begging him to tell Robert how much he really does care.

XXXXXXXX

Despite the fact that his mind had wanted to offer a few tormented nightmares about him being mistreated by his father or being taken away by him while he was helpless to fight back, House would always show up as his protector and save the day; something he had taken comfort in and allowing him some real rest and awaking feeling rested – not agitated. He rolls onto his right side and flips on the light, instantly offering a small chuckle as he gazes upon the little yellow rubber duckie with an affectionate smirk.

"Good morning," he offers the plastic smiling face.

_'That's kinda cool that Dr. House calls you his duckling. Kinda like the older duck caring for the younger duckling.'_

Bruno's words settle upon his mind but his heart actually longs to hear House tell him he really does care. Saying you give a damn isn't the same as actually saying you care about someone. _You're feeling emotionally vulnerable after yesterday_, his mind reminds him, _it'll pass; you don't need to hear it. _Chase looks at his wheelchair and then down at his hand and frowns; his mind wanting more than anything to get into the chair on his own but at the same time not wanting to damage the stitching that House had fixed for him the day before. But as he recalls himself pushing down on his hand in the shower, he tells himself that if he's careful he can do it. And that's what he does; the stinging quickly subsides and he's more than thankful he didn't have to wait for anyone else's time frame to get mobile.

Chase wheels into the kitchen and stares at the coffee supplies and offers a small chuckle as he starts to get busy making the coffee; House in the background singing off-key in the shower.

"So remember no girls while I'm not home. You can't have all the fun while I'm not around. You know two cripples for the price of one might actually work," House reminds Chase as he takes his mug filled with coffee.

"Yes d…" Chase starts and then stops…offering a small mortified expression and instantly chastising himself for implying that he'd put his father and House in the same sentence. "I didn't mean…it kinda slipped out…House I'm sorry. I would never want to imply that…" Chase rambles nervously.

"Dad?" House arches his brows and Chase huffs. "Daddy-eo," House smiles. "Behave while I'm away."

Chase nods but then feels his teeth grit as he hears House leave and the door close a bit firmer than he might have wanted. _I didn't mean that…it just came out…can I blame Bruno for putting that fatherly protective talk in my head? House isn't my protector…or my father…he's my boss and friend…that's all…that is all right? He said he'd protect me but if he cared more he'd tell me wouldn't he?_

Chase looks at the spare key on the table beside his phone and wallet and smiles; his mind actually wondering if he shouldn't just take a small jaunt into the building just to prove to himself he could. He gathers his things and heads for the door, his mind actually wishing he could start his physio this week. _It's only been a week and you'll get your prognosis in two days._ He did admit he felt tired at his first stand yesterday but he hadn't stood upright in a week…of course he'd feel tired. But it was a start and there was light promised at the end of the tunnel.

"I wonder if I can get Bruno to come and…" his thoughts die out as he heads into the hallway, not wanting to feel selfish in expecting Bruno to drop everything just to help him. _He has a life outside work and helping me…it's not fair to him. _Chase reaches the ground floor again and looks around for any unsightly characters before proceeding into the main common area, smiling as a small child nears him, curious about his mode of transport.

"Why are you in that?" The young child asks, as his mother hurries up and offer an apologetic look.

"I'm so sorry if he's embarrassed you."

"Don't be…and I'm not," Chase replies in haste as he looks down at the boy. "What's your name?"

"Billy."

"Hello Billy I'm Robert."

"Why are you in that?" He wonders innocently as his little hands feel the spokes.

"I was involved in an accident at work and am hoping to start some physio very soon to help me walk again."

"What's izzio?" Billy asks, forcing Chase's smile to widen.

"A group of very nice people who are going to help me walk again."

"Okay," the child shrugs before a lady enters with a small dog and instantly the child's attention is diverted, Chase offering a small wave as he watches with delight as the child starts to play with the puppy. The rest of the day passes by with surprising speed and its not long before Chase hears House entering the apartment; just in time for dinner.

"Really now? Is that duck I smell?" House enters the kitchen and looks at Chase in surprise.

"It…was…" Chase offers with a look of dejection as he nods toward the charred remains of what would have been dinner.

"You know…if you wanted the fire department to come you could have just pulled the alarm. Less mess on your part," House mumbles as he picks up a fork and knife and starts to cut beneath the charred out layers. "Well it'll be slim pickins' but it's eatable."

"It is?"

"We'll fatten you up tomorrow," House teases as he hands Chase a piece of the well cooked duck. "Where did you get duck anyways?"

"I found a local food service that delivers," Chase replies as he carefully chews. "Not…bad."

"Needs gravy. Everything tastes better with gravy. So what trouble did you get into today?" House inquires as he goes about making the rest of the dinner, Chase relegated to making the salad and setting the table; a task he took too gratefully. It wouldn't matter if he had to fold napkins, he was just happy to be around someone who actually _wanted_ to know how he was and how his day went. The past few days horror had nearly melted away for good as the busy day draws to a close, the two of them once again watching some mindless show on TV and mocking the actors for even choosing such a role. This time Chase is awake to say goodnight to House as they both part ways and the apartment is darkened for the second night in a row; Chase falling asleep with less agitated nightmares.

XXXXXXXX

"You still haven't told him?" Wilson inquires very early the next morning as he looks at House seated behind his desk chair; the rest of House's team still not arrived to get the busy day started. "Why not?"

"Things are good right now…why rock the boat?" House returns. "'sides I think he's forgotten."

"Trust me he hasn't forgotten. He was drugged and taken forcibly by his father to a high priced hell and then hit by him before you entered to save the day. He needs to know this wasn't just done to get back at Rowan and show you ended the game with the upper hand."

"Chase is a fine prize," House muses to which Wilson just rolls his eyes. "He knows."

"He knows he likes it better away from a prison with no door handle and a staff that is paid to be captors. He doesn't know you actually rescued him because you care."

"He's okay."

"Not long after he was born, Robert knew he was unwanted and unloved. He's learned from a small boy to put on a brave face and mask his emotions…anything to survive and not appear weak. Now he faces death and once again is reminded by his own father I might add that he's unwanted and unloved. Course he _appears_ okay," Wilson tries to explain. "That's all he knows how to do. Suck it up and show the world you're unbreakable on the outside. You need to show him he can actually be vulnerable to someone who cares for him and that he can still respect himself for it."

"He doesn't need to be bogged down in sentimentality," House pushes back.

"You told me his father went off on a verbal tirade about his lies and how he manipulated everyone into giving him attention and that he cut himself to get your attention. He needs to know you stormed the castle because you also care for him and it wasn't just to give him what his father said."

"I really wanted to hit his father," House interjects to which Wilson pulls back. "I will tell him…I just need the right moment."

"And when will that be? When it's too late?" Wilson counters.

"You know you're like the grim reaper."

"More like the voice of reason," Wilson insists. "Tell him."

"Yes mom," House retorts as Wilson turns to leave; pausing in the doorway and looking back at House in wonder. "Where is Rowan now?"

"Probably back in London."

"Melbourne," Wilson groans.

"Well if you knew…why'd you ask?"

"Right…I should have known better," Wilson purses his lips as he turns to leave, House watching and then looking back at his phone with a narrowed gaze before he reaches for it; his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes I'm just wondering if Rowan Chase has checked out yet? He has…no that's all I needed. And thank you," House replies as he hangs up and then looks at the phone with a satisfied smile. "Ran back to the underworld with his pointed tail tucked between his legs. Good riddance."

XXXXXXXX

"There…got it. Had it broke I might have actually got that spank," Chase chuckles himself in glee as he pushes back from the bookshelf, looking up at the glass vase that he had managed to catch when he bumped the edge with his wheelchair; placing the unbroken object back in its original place. He hears the phone ringing and hurries to get it, telling himself it was Bruno returning his call about what time he'd be back tonight.

"Hello?" Chase answers with a smile, seeing the _local_ number on the display but not giving it much thought. But that smile quickly fades as the voice on the other end of line finally speaks.

_"Hello…Robert."_

"Father."

* * *

**A/N:** ah you knew the nice happy Chase bubble had to burst at least once more right? Don't worry its all part of my big master plan *Eeks* and hope that's okay with you all. So why did Rowan call? What effect will his words have on his son and how will this affect things with House? What will finally prompt House to confess he cares? Hope you all liked this and would love your thoughts on the update and your guesses as to what's a head and thanks so much!


	10. Total Eclipse of the Heart

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 10 – Total Eclipse of the Heart **

**A/N: **Wow when this started out as a one shot I never expected to get to 10 chappies (a real milestone for me in this fandom) but b/c you all have liked this story soooo much (your reviews ROCK by the way!) it's kept my muse wanting to find ways to extend the Chase angst-hurt/House comfort a bit longer so we came up with a few more and hope that's okay.

* * *

_"I want to know if Dr. House told you the real reason he came to get you?"_

"I don't have…" Chase starts as his father quickly interjects.

_"To get back at me, that's why. He's made a mockery of your feelings and I would like to know why you allow him to…"_

"I told you I didn't want to stay in that prison any longer," Chase argues back.

_"You've always made it difficult for me to…love you."_

"What? Me?" Chase's voice lightly stammers. "I only ever wanted your love and attention as a child and all I ever learned was I was a burden. How was that my fault?"

_"I taught you to be self-sufficient and successful. Emotional people are not successful."_

"I don't have to listen to…"

_"Just like now you never wanted to hear the truth," Rowan offers another manipulative lie._

"Here I feel wanted."

_"Really? You think Dr. House actually cares about you? Has he ever told you that to your face? I'll bet you twice my yearly salary it's just a sad fairytale a grown man should know better than to make. He's all about the win and something to gossip about to the rest of his staff while you're away wallowing. You amuse him. Nothing more."_

"What do you want father?" Chase asks in a quiet tone.

_"And you're just staying there to lap up some older male attention?"_

"I have to go," he states numbly but doesn't act.

_"Robert…"_

"I want to get better…and after suffering in that prison for a few days this is a welcome change."

_"Just make sure you're there for the right reasons."_

"Why did you call? Because if you wanted to ask me to come back I think you know my answer."

_"No. You put on enough of a spectacle the other day."_

"Spectacle? If you would have let me leave when I wanted then none of that would have happened. And House came for me. That proves he cares."

_"It proves he had time on his hands. But have him tell you that. He won't because he doesn't. He merely wanted the upper hand on me."_

"I have to go now."

_"I'm rather disappointed in you Robert."_

"Well…at least that I'm used to. Goodbye father."

_"Goodbye Robert."_

Chase hangs up the phone and then leans back in his wheelchair and stares at the small device in misery; his heart trying to keep angry tears at bay and his mind yelling at him to suck it up and put his brave face back on. _Why did you keep talking? He was never going to listen to reason! He only wanted to hurt you with his petty words because he's angry that…_

"House won…is this really just a damn game to them? Doesn't anyone care about my feelings? I have them…some," Chase looks back at the phone with an angry glare. "Maybe I should be on my own…" his voice trails off as he heads into his bedroom and stares around with a glum face. "But if I leave now…my father will have won," he continues his one man/one sided conversation. "He can't win. I'll wait one more day and then…one more day," he chants as he gathers up his few laundry items and then heads back into the hallway and pauses as he looks at the door.

_'You've always made it difficult for me…you never wanted to hear the truth…you always...you never...you...you...YOU!'_

Chase purses his lips as he starts to ponder if he was bothering House in any way but then knows that since House isn't one to mince words, if he wanted him gone he would be. _Maybe he knows my father is still here and he's doing it just for show? _

"I should leave so he doesn't feel obligated to have me stay longer…" Chase muses to himself as he heads into the elevator and then presses the 'B' to get down to the basement to do some laundry. As soon as the door opens, Chase pauses in the area before he decides to move any further; his mind replaying himself being followed by the unsightly looking man who then tried to attack him; Wilson, at House's urging show up at the right moment to keep him from being attacked further.

"You are being overly paranoid," Chase mutters in an undertone as he heads for the laundry room with the small sack of clothing on his lap. He fills up one of the machines, pops in the quarter but just before he slams the door shut he hears a noise and then turns to see another man enter and head for another machine, giving Chase a nod and a small hello but basically minding his own business.

After he flips on the machine, he looks down at his bandaged hand and frowns, his mind wondering whatever happened to Kari, Carl and Nora. Of course his father could easily dismiss them no questions asked – he basically walked in and out of his own son's life like he was entering a store; it was nothing with real strangers.

"Always nothing," Chase whispers to himself as he pulls out his phone and then looks at the last message his father had sent him.

_'Dr. House cares for himself first and foremost. Maybe you need a little extra education in how to read people Robert.'_

He shoves the phone back into his pocket and pulls out the small book that he had gotten from House's library and starts to flip through the pages; his mind not really interested in reading. Instead he leans back in the chair and starts to ponder his father's words. _Stop overanalyzing his words…they were meant to hurt…read the book and forget him._

But try as he might to concentrate on the information in the book, the seeds of doubt continue to grow inside his mind and heart; until he doesn't care about the book and lets it fall to his lap; his mournful blue gaze now absently fixed on the slightly reverberating machine before him.

However, Chase is so lost in thought that it's not until two rather familiar hands cover his eyes and his body gently jerks in response.

"Eye spy with my little eye..." House's voice trails off as Chase's lips twist upward into a soft smirk.

"Something that is black?"

"Why not yellow?" House huffs; his hands still covering Chase's eyes.

"Because I only see black," Chase remarks in a dry tone.

"Spoiled sport," House remarks as Chase looks up just as House plunks himself down on top of the rapidly moving dryer. "Left my vibrator upstairs," House quips to which Chase just rolls his eyes. "Maid was busy?"

"I needed an outing," Chase replies with a small frown as he tries to look past House to see how much time was left.

"Slow day?" House inquires.

"Yeah nothing major happened," Chase says as he fails to meets House's gaze.

"Why do I get the feeling you're lying?"

"Want to spank me for being a bad boy?" Chase retorts with a tone a bit louder; with an angry edge, forcing the other man in the corner to look up in wonder.

"Lover's spat…keep it up and I might," House states matter-of-factly as he looks back down at Chase. "I was just wondering."

"I'm just tired. I was down here earlier and a small child asked about my legs and then…I'm fine," Chase replies with a tight lipped smile.

"Okay," House says as he holds Chase's gaze a few seconds before turning to see how much time was left in the dryer. Without saying another word, House pulls open the dryer, hands the few items to Chase and then stars to push him out of the laundry room. At first Chase feels himself wanting to protest but holds back; his mind actually thankful for the small spot of attention House was offering. And it wasn't in the same way a child would need attention from a parent, it was a friend who had been lonely all day and missed another friend and mentor. _But admit it…_his mind reminds him_…you want to prove your father wrong…you want House's affection. _I do…Chase inwardly admits. _For once I would like to know I mean something more to someone…than just a mere employee or object of amusement._

"My duckling is quieter than normal. Yesterday I'd have to have stuffed a sock between those lips to shut you up," House comments as they reach Chase's room and Chase pulls ahead with his clean clothes still in his lap.

He remains in place with his back to House before he exhales and then slightly cocks his head. "What the boy said…it just made me want to…speed things up."

"You have to wait the full two weeks," House reminds him kindly.

"And that's why I'm…down."

"And I have just the thing to cheer you up."

"Am almost afraid to ask. It involves socks?" Chase lightly groans as House pulls open his drawer and starts to rummage around. "Those are…House what are…" Chase starts as House turns around and then reaches for the bottom of his tee-shirt to pull it up. "What are…" Chase stammers as House looks at him with a heavy frown. "What is that for? What is going on?"

"Arms up now," House demands as Chase looks at him in wonder. "Oh you have nothing I haven't seen before…or don't have myself," House chirps as Chase arches his brows but slowly raises his arms. "Ohhh a bandage on your chest…now that I don't have," House teases as Chase just shakes his head.

"House what are…"

"Hush or I'll reach for the sock next. Arms back up," House instructs as Chase raises his arms; Chase helping to finish pulling the black sweater over the rest of his head. "Pants or…"

"No pants?"

"Dockers?" House retorts dryly.

"Where are we going?"

"Not telling."

"Not answering," Chase playfully answers as House reaches for some socks and puts Chase's runners back on and then heads into the hallway; Chase slowly following him in wonder. Without telling Chase anything further, House heads for the door and holds it open; Chase wheeling toward it and taking his jacket from House; wallet and phone in his pocket. "Where…are we going?"

"I told you…I have a sad duckling to cheer up," House replies in a tone that tells him not to ask any further questions. House pushes Chase to the elevator, telling him some amusing anecdotes about the team's latest case and how Wilson's latest patient faked cancer to avoid a law suit. The elevator opens and Chase looks past the doors and fixes his gaze on the handicapped bus waiting and then twists his head and looks up at House.

"Have to get to the zoo somehow."

"The…zoo?"

"Blame Bruno for that one," House retorts as they head for the ramp to get into the bus. House gives the address to one of their favorite, rather kitschy restaurants and both settle in for the ride; House looking at Chase in wonder, his mind trying to discern why the younger man beside him was rather uncharacteristically quiet. _Did daddy call? Did he say something else unkind or untrue? _

"Did the big bad wolf call today per chance?" House gently inquires. It wasn't the few seconds pause that Chase offered before his lie, but rather the way his jaw had hardened in the darkened interior of the bus that told House the real story.

"No," Chase replies in a somewhat timid tone; his eyes daring not to look at the older man beside him watching in concern for fear he'd confess all and then be forced to listen to House saying to not to have answered the phone because he should have known what was coming. _He'd say that right? Course I should have known better…_Chase's mind inwardly groans.

"Well…we're almost there," House changes the subject in haste, noticing Chase's jaw unclench and fingers loosen around the handles to the wheelchair. _So he did call…or did he come over personally? _House's mind silently growls in indignation as he pictures Chase subjected to another bout of unfair emotional browbeating and actually for a second giving thought to his father's cruel and hurtful words. He knows he could have called Chase on his unconvincing tone but figured they were now in public and it wasn't the time or place to press the issue and cause an argument. Besides…he felt like getting out and enjoying himself with Chase at his side; knowing the younger man had been cooped up inside for far too long.

"You weren't kidding."

"Nope," House retorts as the handicapped bus stops in front of the all too familiar establishment called 'The Zoo' and Chase's lips can't help but crack into a genuine smile. "Thought so," House smiles as he pushes Chase out of the bus, telling the driver they'd be ready at the specified time. House pushes Chase into the moderately noisy establishment and then toward an area beside a window where a handicapped table was waiting.

"Didn't know they had this here," Chase remarks as he settles himself in opposite House.

"Ever look before?" House counters as the waitress brings them two menus. "Oh we can't stay here," House instantly pipes up as he looks at the menu and then playfully snatches Chase's out of his grasp, prompting Chase to look up in haste; a small look of boyish wonder adorning his face.

"Why not?" Chase asks in genuine confusion.

"They don't serve alcohol to minors."

"I'm allowed one drink," Chase playfully snatches it back.

"I really wanted you to pout," House huffs as Chase gives him a small snicker as he looks at the menu. House notices Chase's fingers momentarily tighten around the edges of the menu and then watches his eyes drop to the bottom of the menu where nothing was but some information about the restaurant and wonder's what secret Chase is hiding. _What aren't you telling me Robert? Did your father stop by to say something before he left town? And if so what…what could make my little wombat so sad when he's back where he…wants to be? _For a few seconds House ponders Wilson's words about telling Chase sooner rather than later that his breaking him out of the high priced prison was because he cares and not only because he wanted to beat Rowan at his own game. However, he also knows that this wasn't the place for a confession of affection; so once again it would have to wait.

"Time's up," House grabs the menus from Chase's grasp just as the waitress comes back for their order. "I'm buying…I'm picking."

"And are you ready?"

"We are," House butts in before Chase can. "We'll have this to start…" he points to the menu, lifting it slightly so Chase can't see what's being ordered.

"And to drink?" She asks House and then after taking his turns to Chase. "And for your son?" She looks at Chase and asks directly; Chase's soft blond brows instantly rising before he looks at House who merely offers a small smile in return but nods at Chase to order his own drink.

"So how's mom?" House quips as Chase's face can only smirk at the silly question. But as the two of them carry on their silly but friendly banter, both of them fail to notice the set of narrowed eyes watching them in anger.

_"So Robert…you've chosen your future. Poor choice," Rowan hisses in the quiet cabin of his car as he watches them from across the street. His lips uttering an angry curse as the older doctor leans in and wipes something off his son's face and then his son offer a rather genuine and boyish smile and then tease the older doctor in return with something – an inside joke the two of them obviously shared. _

_"Enjoy it now…soon it will change forever."_

"Now that sounded like a genuine laugh."

"You just tricked me into eating…what was that again?" Chase asks in wonder. "Tasted like a rubber band."

"You've tasted rubber bands before?"

"Not the point. What?"

"Cow testicles."

"Was not," Chase groans. "Snails."

"If you knew, why'd you ask," House grins as he pops another in his mouth; Chase watching with a scrunched up expression.

"I'm done…with those."

"Now how am I going to fatten you up?"

"I could always eat a few pats of that butter?" Chase nods to the small plate with a few little squares of butter on it.

The rest of the evening plays out with moderate humor and mild conversation but by the time they were heading back to House's apartment, Chase was once again quiet and House's mind races with finding a way to force him to open up and confess or just leave him to his own silent misery.

"Thank you again for dinner…and the outing," Chase tells House as he reaches his bedroom and slowly enters. House had told Bruno about his plan to take Chase out of the apartment for a real outing and arranged for him to come the day after.

"It was fun," House replies seriously as he offers Chase a heavy frown. "Need some help?"

"I'll be okay…thanks," Chase looks up with a small smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Houses turns and leaves the room, his hand pulling the door closed half way and then heading back down the hallway. And unlike when he had gotten home, he heads for the phone and then pushes the button for the call display list. He looks at the last number that called, writes it down and then heads into the living room to trace the number and wonder who had called his duckling while he wasn't home.

Chase looks at the picture of him and House on the dresser and thinks back to the last few hours. It was his first outing in a few weeks and all he could do was ponder his father's hurtful words; his mind yelling at him to just let it go as it wasn't fair to House for him to bear the emotional brunt of his father's stupidity.

"Tomorrow will be better," Chase mutters to himself as he pulls off his sweater and then looks down at the bandage on his chest. Just as his fingers reach the edge to lift the bandage he hears a small shuffle and lifts his eyes to see House watching him. "Just wanted to see…how the um stitching was."

"Same as earlier," House mentions softly as he heads into the bedroom and sits down, his hands reaching for Chase's shoes; Chase's hands quickly stopping his and making House look up in wonder.

"I'm okay…really I can manage."

"What other lies did daddy feed you with today?" House lightly snaps as he pushes Chase's hands away, Chase looking away with pursed lips and a small sigh. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because as you said…they were…lies and I'm a grown man and can handle this on my own," Chase replies with a firm nod his mind trying to push away the voice of his father's telling him that he was only there to get House's attention and that was not the way a grown man should act and that House was probably just putting up with it because he didn't want to be rude.

"So he did tell you some things."

"Just that he was leaving."

"Oh dear Chase you are a terrible liar."

"Fine then I'm lying!" Chase hisses as he snatches his socks from House's grip and pulls back a few feet, the back wheels being stopped by the bed and his legs unable to get him upright and out of the room on his own merit. He tosses the socks onto the floor and then looks away with a small scowl. "He called to say goodbye."

"And before that?"

"It doesn't matter," Chase resigns in sorrow as he looks away and mutters to himself.

"It does when you make that sad little puppy dog face all night long and I spend half the night trying to make you smile and it still doesn't work. And I'm usually pretty good at making you laugh."

"House I'm sorry…" Chase replies heavily as he slumps back in his chair; his scowl gone and a small frown adorning his forehead. "I just thought I wouldn't hear from him again. He called. He was curt and said a few things but he then said goodbye and I know I won't hear from him again. I'm just tired. But I did have fun tonight," Chase quickly changes the subject, hoping House will do the same and just drop the subject about his father.

"Tee-shirt?" House resigns as Chase looks up with a pleading expression; his eyes silently begging him to just drop the subject and save his waning emotional dignity.

"Sure," Chase answers absently as he watches House reach for his sleeping tee and then gesture for him to put his arms up. "Bedtime," House comments softly. Without putting up too much protest, Chase allows House to help him get ready for bed and then help him get onto the top of the bed and pull the covers over him; House sitting beside him and looking down in concern.

"My duckling needs to learn to tell me the truth," House tells him matter-of-factly, Chase looking up with a tormented expression.

"House I…"

"And that I won't judge him if he does."

"I know but I…"

"We'll fatten you up tomorrow," House remarks lightly as Chase's lips twist upward in a soft smile and House smiling down before he pulls the covers over Chase and then nods. "Goodnight."

Chase whispers goodnight in return as he watches House turn off the light and leave the room; a few seconds later he flips onto his side as best he can and hugs the pillow his mind racing with angry frustration. _'You're just there to get his attention. House doesn't care; he pity's you. You're probably there just for his amusement or something to gossip about.'_

"Damn you father…you're wrong…about me," Chase groans into the darkness; the biting words not lost on House as he stands in the hall leaning against the wall – listening.

_Damn you Rowan, _House silently curses as he waits a few extra minutes, his fists curling as his mind conjures up an image of Chase's dejected expression as he listens to his father browbeat him over the phone. _He's worth so much…_he inwardly laments as he hears Chase utter an angry curse before all falls silent. A few minutes later his mind takes some small comfort in the soft contented sounds coming from Chase's room as the younger Dr. Chase finally falls asleep.

XXXXXXXX

"How did you sleep?" House asks Chase as he turns to see Chase wheel himself into the kitchen early the following morning.

"Kept having this dream that I was served to you on a golden platter, trussed up like a duck with an apple in my mouth."

"Tempting vision but for the record…only pigs have apples in their mouths. A duck's mouth is too small," House reiterates in a serious tone to which Chase looks up with an incredulous glare. "But you know if you wanna try a little role play with this apple…" House grins as he holds up the apple with a grin; forcing Chase to offer a small laugh.

"I'm allergic," Chase retorts in haste as House offers a small pout and proceeds to cut the apple in half and give one of the halves to Chase. _'You're nothing more than a pitiful amusement to Dr. House. All you want is his attention. Shame on you Robert…you're a grown man, not a child.' _"About last night…"

"Remember only Wilson is allowed to wallow."

"Does he?"

"No, that's why he's allowed," House retorts with a smirk. "I had fun too."

"I did have fun and I just didn't want you to think that I…well maybe I did allow my father's hurtful words to affect me but I did have fun," Chase admits in haste. "I did."

"I do believe you but you still can't wallow."

"Fair enough. I was thinking today that maybe…I'd go to my apartment. You know check on the mail and such," Chase mentions as he pulls away from House and heads for the coffee maker; his back to House and mind racing as to how House would entertain his suggestion. House looks at his back, a few silent seconds later Chase finally turning around to see House watching him with a curious glare. "I can take the bus on my own," he adds in a rushed tone.

"Course you can," House replies as he looks at Chase in concern. "But if you want to wai…"

"I want to go on my own," Chase quickly interjects as his father's voice continues to assail his muddled mind. "You'll be busy today and I don't want bother a real issue with…personal stuff and…I'll be okay."

"I know you'll be okay," House tries to reassure him as he looks at Chase, trying to hold his gaze but feeling his agitation surge when the younger man looks away. _'You need to tell him.' _"I…" House starts only to have Chase look back in expectation.

"Unless…you want to wait until later?" Chase suggests, his tone forcing House's mind to dance between the two options.

_I can't just say, Robert I care for you _for no real reason_…_his mind huffs as he pastes on his all too familiar tight lipped smile and shakes his head.

"Nonsense. You're a big boy now. Just make sure you're home before dark," House tells him firmly as Chase rewards him with a small smile but pulls away and goes about making the rest of his breakfast.

_Your father's words mean nothing. House is your boss and friend…nothing more. You can do this on your own now. You have always been alone and self-sufficient and always will be. On your own now._

"Earth to wombat…" House teases as Chase finally snaps him out of his mental stupor and looks up with a soft frown. "Make me one promise."

"What's that?"

"You won't spend the day giving the big bad wolf's lies another thought."

"Promise," Chase answers a little too quickly; House giving him a unconvinced glare. "Apple?" Chase holds up the second, uneaten half.

"Fits your mouth better," House smirks as he fills up his coffee cup and grabs his phone. "Maybe we can play twister tonight," House mentions seriously as he turns and heads out of the kitchen.

"I'd easily win," Chase calls out with a small snicker.

"Lying across the whole board is cheating," House reminds him matter-of-factly as he reaches for his coat. "See you tonight."

"Bye," Chase mutters with a small sigh; another audible offering not lost on his older guardian. He goes about making his breakfast and then heads into his bedroom; leaving his black sweatpants on but pulling on a sweater, socks and his runners before heading back into the hallway and reaching for the phone. He looks at the last number that called and feels his teeth grit as he curses himself for listening to his father's twisted lies for longer than he should have.

"Time to go home…" Chase tells himself as he calls for the schedule to the handicapped bus, grabs his coat and a few personal things and heads outside; locking the apartment door and heading for the elevator.

"Morning Dr. Chase," the bus driver greets with a friendly smile as he waits for Chase to lock himself into place and then slowly pulls away from the curb, heading away from the secure confines of House's apartment and back to the open but lonely fortress of solitude he calls home.

Chase thanks the driver and then heads for the front door to his own apartment and then back into another elevator and up to an all-too familiar floor. "Home," Chase whispers as he tries to paste on a contented smile; his brain remembering that he hadn't been back in a few weeks so things were supposed to be cold. He locks the door and then goes about turning on the heat first and then seeing what he had left in the fridge that might need to be tossed away.

"House," he mutters lightly to himself as he pulls open the fridge door and stares at the empty shelves before him, before closing the door and then turning around to face his empty apartment. He looks down at his legs and feels his entire frame sag into his wheelchair. _'Remember just don't try this without me,' _Bruno's words quickly flood his mind as he thinks about trying to have a shower on his own. But he quickly remembers his bathing chair at House's he tells himself he'd have to wait until tomorrow to fresh up with Bruno.

"Tomorrow…am I going back to House's tomorrow?" Chase asks himself as he slowly wheels into his own bedroom and looks around. The landscape while all too familiar, now seems oddly – cold and uninviting; his mind wanting to just make sure everything was in order and then get back to House's apartment; a place he wants to call home.

"But it's not home," Chase argues with himself as he remains in his cold bedroom; his mind telling himself to go and at least put the heat on. _Turn on the TV…order in a pizza…get back to a regular routine – you will have to soon enough because you don't live with House! You live alone…time to get back to reality. _

Chase heads back into the living room area and looks up at the heat controls and frowns, his mind telling him to find something he can use to reach upward and at least push the control button on and then the up switch to get some heat into the cold space. He heads into kitchen and spies a long wooden spoon but at the same time hears a grumble in his stomach and eyes the phone; his mind trying to decide which task to tackle first. However, just before he can make a move in either direction, fate intervenes and a knock is heard at the door. Wondering who it could be Chase wheels toward the door and stops.

"Who's there?" He asks, not able to see the peep hole and not about to open the door if it was his father.

"Post office."

"Post office?" Chase mutters as he pauses for a second but then figures he was too tired to play another silly mind game and opens the door; gazing up at an actual US postal worker.

"Registered Letter for Doctor Robert Chase."

"That's me," Chase states slowly as he looks down at the letter and then signs for it, offering a small thank you and closing the door. "What is…" he asks himself as he quickly rips open the top of the plain white envelop and pulls out the folded letter. Looking at the PPTH logo, he tells himself it had to do with his medical leave, Chase unfolds the letter; a small smile still upon his face. But as soon as he starts into the first paragraph his smile fades and utter shock replaces it.

"This…can't be…" Chase's voice dies out as he stares in shock at the few small but stinging paragraphs.

XXXXXXXX

"Why is there a Twister mat on the floor?" Wilson inquires as he comes into House's office near the end of the long day.

"I'm practicing my moves so I can beat Chase," House replies in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You know…I'm not even going to go there."

"Wanna join? Chase might like a threesome."

"He could just wheel onto that thing and win."

"Spoiled sport," House grumbles as he stands up and looks at his best friend with a wondering glance. "Bored?"

"On the contrary, I came to drop this off and get back to my last patient. How is Robert?"

"His father phoned him yesterday. Ruined our fun night out as dear Dr. Chase spent the night pouting. But in his defense he has a really great pout."

"And did you console the poor lad?" Wilson asks in wonder.

"He bounced back pretty fast."

"Course he did; he's Superman," Wilson retorts as House looks at him in surprise. "You missed another opportunity."

"I wasn't about to confess anything in public and then when we got home…trust me he's fine," House insists with a nod of his head. "Think you can put your right foot on green and your left hand on yellow at the same time?"

"Tell him…before you lose the chance for good," Wilson calls out as he leaves House's office; House looking down at the Twister board and then up at the clock. He quickly folds up the plastic mat, shoves it into his briefcase and heads for the elevator.

"Dr. House."

"Evening Bruno. On the way to see Dr. Chase?"

"Well I called but he never called me back. Didn't want to bother him if was busy so if you see him, tell him I'll be by tomorrow if he's able."

House offers a nod followed by a heavy frown as he gets into the elevator and quickly pulls his phone. He knows how much Chase likes spending time with Bruno and figures unless it was something terrible, he wouldn't just miss or not call back. _He better not still be wallowing, _House's mind inwardly groans as he dials Chase's cell number. No answer. Chase's home number. No answer. His apartment. No answer.

"Ok-ay," House mutters as he heads for home, wondering now if perhaps Chase was sleeping or just ignoring the call because he was in the mood to play games. House opens the door to his apartment and stares at the darkness greeting him. "Are we playing hide and seek instead of Twister tonight?" House calls out as he flips on the lights; instantly hit by waves of silence. "Chase?" He does a quick apartment search and then heads for the door; knowing that in his condition, Chase couldn't hide that easily. House heads down to the common area and the laundry area – both empty.

"Where to Sir?" The cabbie asks House as he gets into the warm cabin of the waiting vehicle. House gives him Chase's address and then pulls his phone once more; sends a text and waits. Again no answer. He tries the numbers another time and then hangs up with a small curse. Telling himself that it would be somewhat absurd for Rowan to kidnap his own son or try something like he did the first time; House's mind offers another terrifying possibility – Robert is hurt and unable to come to the phone.

He reaches Chase's apartment and hurries for the front door as fast he can and into the waiting elevator and up to Chase's floor.

"Oh Dr. Chase…open the door," House states firmly as he offers a solid knock. His mind races in wonder at the disconcerting silence that is offered in return; his fingers reaching for the spare key to Chase's apartment and then slowly unlocking the door. He pushes the door all the way open and is instantly hit with a cool breeze and the distinct smell of alcohol.

"Robert?" House calls out in a somewhat quiet tone as he flips on the light and closes the door; turning on the heat at the same time. But as he rounds the corner to the living room he utters a small gasp as he spies his beloved duckling sprawled on the floor a few feet from his tipped over wheelchair; a half drunk bottle of whiskey beside Chase's slightly shivering frame and a piece of paper clutched tightly in his grasp.

"Damn…" House gently curses as he races for Chase's fallen frame. "Robert…" House whispers as he sinks to the floor, pulls Chase onto his lap and turns him over; his heart instantly sinking at Chase's blank but tear stained expression looking up in misery.

"My…fault…" Chase whispers as House snatches the paper from Chase's cold grasp and stares at the first paragraph.

"Son of a bitch," House curses angrily as Chase's eyes close and he goes completely limp in House's grasp.

* * *

**A/N:** Uh oh….so before the angsty cliffe did you like the outing and their playful banter? So what came in the mail? And will House now finally have the right moment to confess to Chase that he really does care? Or will Chase even want to hear it now? Would love your thoughts so please do review and thanks so much!


	11. Confession is good for the Soul

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 11 – Confession is good for the Soul**

* * *

"Robert!" House gently shakes the younger man in his grasp; looking at the small amount of dried blood resting on his chin and can only surmise it was from Chase's teeth digging into his bottom lip when the wheelchair fell over with him still in it. "Can you open your eyes and look at me?" House gently begs. "Robert? Please look at me."

Chase's half drunk; half tear laden eyes slowly open and look up at House with a blank stare. "My father…hates me."

"Forget him!" House insists with a frustrated huff as he gently flecks away a piece of dirt that had attached itself to Chase's damp forehead.

"Wants my…license revoked."

"Listen to me..."

"And he said…I killed…my mother."

"Listen…"

"And…I'm broke…" Chase growls with a hint of resentment in his tone.

"Did you eat anything today?"

"I'm…BRO…KE!" Chase stammers with a hiccup as he tries to use his arms to push himself away from House; a few seconds later quickly tiring and just slumping back in House's protective grasp. "Let…go."

"Why did y…" House starts and then stops. _You can't blame him for any of this…you can't blame him for listening to those words…his father just showed his last act of cruelty…he needs genuine care right now…not a lecture to try to forget the world's biggest asshole! _

Chase's soft dirty blond lashes blink furiously as he looks up at House and tries to get his eyes to focus; his heart racing and stomach on fire thanks to no food and only several hearty ounces of the golden poison now dancing with the acidic bile. "My…fault," he whispers as he tries to look away; his arms resting limply at his sides.

House's fingers gently grab his lightly stubble clad chin and turn his head back so their eyes were locked. "No. None of this…was your fault."

"No I…"

"Where's my damn apple," House retorts lightly. But his joke is lost on Chase who merely offers a scowl in return and purses his flushed lips. "He's cruel and…those words were meant to hurt."

"They did!"

"I'm sorry."

"I need…another…drink," Chase twists his head and looks around for the bottle. "Soon…I'll be unemployed…"

"Listen, he will not be able to get your medical license revoked. Foreman would never allow it and neither would I."

"And the other…"

"Forget…"

"Give me…the damn bottle back!"

"No…you've had enough."

"NO!" Chase looks back at up at House in anger. "Why…are you even…here!"

"Because you didn't answer the damn phone."

"I was…b-busy," Chase lightly stammers as he looks away; his body getting irritated in House's grasp. "What he said…was right."

"No. He's an evil, lying manipulator who only wants to hurt you in the worst way possible."

"He never cared…he told me…never loved me…said it was my fault…he couldn't love me…said I made…it difficult," Chase rambles with a few aromatic hiccups in between. "And now…he proved it."

House listens to Chase ramble on about his father's stupid words, his eyes darting between the letter in his hand; an official signed letter stating that Rowan Chase had removed his only son, Robert, from his will – effective today and Chase's defeated expression. _Asshole! _House's mind tries to picture Chase, alone in his apartment, trying to come to terms and move past his father's emotionally debilitating words from the day before only to get a registered letter stating that because of his own actions his father was seeking to get his medical license revoked because he wasn't fit to practice medicine; that because of him his mother drank himself to death; that his father was taking him out of his will and it was his fault that he could now consider himself a penniless orphan. House feels his teeth grit and for a second, considers hunting down the elder Dr. Chase and beating him senseless with his case.

_'You caused your injury Robert and I will see to it that your license is taken away for the safety of the general public and those you work with,' _the letter had threatened in part.

A soft whimper from the younger man in his arms, forces House to look back down with a heavy frown and reconsider an outright physical attack – knowing that just because he could, Rowan would probably have him arrested for assault and Chase would blame himself further.

"House…I need…" Chase stammers as he tries to open his weary eyes; his arms once again restlessly trying to push himself out of House's strong grasp. "Let…go…"

"No. I'm never letting go," House whispers as he tenderly pushes a few damp strands off Chase's flushed forehead and utters a heavy sigh. "Just go to sleep now."

"Why…why are you here?" Chase asks again in frustration.

"I'm here…" _TELL HIM _his mind shouts. House pauses as he looks down with a tender gaze. "Because I care about you."

"Liar."

"Cripple," House mildly retorts before his face turns serious. "Just like when I took you from your father's prison…I'm here…because I care about you Robert. I do."

Chase hears House's heartfelt confession but in his drunken stupor merely shrugs it off as another lie and looks away.

"Robert…" House's warm but firm tone forces him to look back. "Do you believe me?"

"You lied…before."

_Resist the urge to argue back! _His brain warns. "This is the truth."

"I don't need…a-anyone," Chase argues back in a soft moan as House looks down with a small frown.

"You're drunk."

"I am…too," Chase softly retorts, bringing a small smile to House's lips.

"Drunken duckling might be kinda tasty," House says lightly as Chase nods and closes his eyes. House casts a tender gaze down at the peaceful expression on Chase's face; the softly parted lips, the dirty blond lashes resting on flushed cheeks, limbs slightly askew and exhales heavily. "Just rest now Robert. I'm not leaving whether you believe it or not."

Chase's mind finally registers House's words; his body fully relaxing in House's grasp and his mind desperately trying to get his agitated stomach to calm down.

"How could he be so cruel," House muses in a sad whisper as he looks back at the hurtful letter and frowns; his mind recalling part of the reason Rowan had decided to cut his only son out of his inheritance.

_'Since you have made clear your choice to do everything your way and on your own, I am going to grant you that wish and let you be for good now. I had worked hard so that when I leave this world you might be taken care of for good but obviously that meant nothing to you. As of today I have removed you from my will. You wished you had no father. I just granted it.'_

House tries to block out the other short paragraph; another small verbal assault about Robert being a disappointment to his father and to see how he'd fare now that his charmed future was obsolete; how he had made it impossible for his father to love him and how he was such a handful of a child that his mother had to drink herself to death to escape.

"Bastard," House growls as he pulls his gaze back from the crumpled letter to Chase's now pain etched face as he mutters something in anger; his eyes slightly fluttering but not fully opening. Realizing that he wouldn't have an easy time of getting Chase into his bed without help House pulls his phone and quickly calls for help.

"Get Carl to finish up. I need some help."

_"Sure thing Dr. House, where are you?"_

"Dr. Chase's apartment. I'll text you the address."

House continues to cradle Chase in his grasp; his fingers gently touching his forehead and frowning at the hot temperature. _Course he has a fever…he has a half a bottle of whiskey in his system and no food and it was like an icy fridge in here. _Knowing after what Chase had read in the letter, House can't offer a verbal brow beating for reaching for the bottle without anything in his stomach. _I would have done the same…in fact I did…_House's mind muses as he recalls learning the truth about his own sordid childhood and what kind of man his own father was; in essence him and Robert shared upbringing similarities – both abandoned by the one person they wanted to desperately to keep in their lives. Their father's. In the end, however, a role mode not worth following or worth wanting to keep.

House feels Chase tense in his arms once more, and starts to hum; the gentle soothing sounds causing the younger man in his grasp to subside back to a docile position. "Just sleep my little duckling," House whispers as he gently rocks him.

"Dr. House?" Bruno's friendly tone is heard about twenty minutes later as he pushes the door open. The gentle giant enters and looks in surprise at House seated on the floor with a soundly sleeping Chase on his lap; the half emptied bottle standing upright a few feet away. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"Believe it or not, he's getting heavy," House lightly groans as Bruno nears. "He needs a real bed."

"Okay but is he okay?"

"He will be…now," House assures Bruno as he gently scoops Chase up into his arms and carries the younger doctor's limp body into his bedroom, House pulling back the covers and letting Bruno carefully place Chase where House shows him and then steps back to allows House to tuck him in.

"You need anything else?"

"Not at the moment. He just needs to sleep this off," House replies in a softer tone as they both exit the bedroom to let Chase get some solid rest. "He'll be having a hangover party very soon."

"Okay I can come by tomorrow. Will he be here?"

"No. He'll be back where he belongs," House answers with a small smile.

"You know with his father dead and all he's lucky he has such a caring friend like you," Bruno remarks as they head for the door. "Kinda like the daddy duck," Bruno concludes, the use of the pet term forcing House to smile.

"I'm the lucky one," House replies seriously as Bruno gives him a firm nod. "You're a good man Bruno."

"Anything for a friend right?"

"Right. Goodnight."

House closes the door behind Bruno and then sends a quick text to Bruno's boss; telling her the young aide has more than once gone above and beyond the call of duty and needs a raise. House slowly heads back into the living room, uprights the wheelchair, tucks the letter into his inner jacket pocket and starts to clean up the spilt liquor and then heads toward the fridge.

"No food."

Hour later House slowly heads back into Chase's now warm bedroom and eases himself down onto the bed beside the younger man, pulling out his book and opening it; Chase asleep beside him. About ten minutes later, Chase's slightly parted lips offer a small groan, forcing House's concerned gaze downward.

"Father…no…sorry…" Chase's whispers in misery as his mind shows a picture of him as a small boy begging for his father to come back and his father snarling as he tells him he'll never see him again because he had been a bad son and deserved to live on his own. "Sorry…" Chase utters once more as his stomach starts to churn; his lungs slightly heaving.

Chase's arms gently flail under the covers as his eyes snap and look up; closing at first and then reopening to see House looking down at him. But he doesn't say anything…merely falling back into his foggy haze as he rolls onto his side; his body pressed up against House's and his subconscious taking comfort in the fact that he wasn't really alone.

House looks down at Chase with a tender expression and frowns. _He never once asked or mentioned…in all the years I've known him to even just say he was wanted…or needed…or if anyone cared. But that's all he wants – probably all he's ever wanted. _His hand slowly reaches out, hovering in the air for a few seconds before he allows it to fall and gingerly stroke Chase's warm cheek; the young man's face slightly twitching in an approved response. House's hand slides down Chase's face and rests on the younger man's shoulder, his head leaning back and his eyes closing for a brief period. _Damn you Rowan…you insensitive SOB! _

Half hour later, House watches in amusement as Chase's body slightly stretches; his arms reaching out and over his head and House unable to resist as he reaches out and gently pokes Chase's side, bringing a small smirk to Chase's lips; his brow, however, quickly offering a frown as he looks up at House in wonder.

Without warning, Chase reaches over and pinches House's leg, his hand quickly retreating as House's lips emit a very dramatic gasp.

"I am real and I am here. How are you feeling?" House asks in concern as Chase tries to get down a dry swallow, his hand reaching up to his forehead and feeling the flushed and clammy skin. "Hating to state the obvious but you're hot," House offers seriously to which Chase's lips momentarily smirk.

"Feel…hot…" Chase quickly laments as he tries to push his elbows under him to at least bring himself up to a semi-seated position.

"Stay," House gently orders as Chase looks up once more with a semi-defeated expression. "Just rest now."

"House why…are you here?" Chase asks with a heavy frown. "Not that I don't appreciate it but…but I was fine…I just…I got some bad news and…"

"I know. I read the letter."

"You did."

"I did," House repeats as Chase looks away in misery.

"I didn't do this to get your attention."

"Ah still thinking I'd believe his load of crap, I see," House muses as Chase shakes his head. "To be honest I'd be just as pissed as you if I was currently dealing with a setback and then had to face the possibility of losing the job I love the most and having to work double shifts because my rich, jerk-off father took me out of his will…simply because he can. And then blaming me for my mother's death. Well I'd have drunk the whole bottle."

"Was my goal," Chase huffs as he feels his throat well with emotion.

"You know they are lies right?"

"Right."

"Robert," House tenderly entreats, Chase's gaze unable to turn back fast enough to the fatherly request.

"They still hurt," Chase confesses in sorrow as House nods in agreement.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. Well now that I'm awake…" Chase tries to sit back up only to have House gently push him back down. "Why are…" he starts and then stops himself. _Did House really say he cared? Or did I just imagine that?_

"I'm here because I want to be."

"You don't have t…"

"I'm here because I care," House states plainly; Chase's mind sober enough to process the heartfelt confession and allow it to sink down into his very core. _He did say it. I didn't imagine it._

"House…"

"Don't make me get an apple," House teases; Chase's lips finally twisting upward. "That's why I got Wilson to follow Kari…that's why I brought Bruno with me as I stormed the castle and that's why I am here right now. I want to be."

Chase's face lights up into a genuine smile; his mind still a bit leery that he's merely garnering the pity vote because of his current situation, but reminds himself that House doesn't often confess inner sentimentality, much less feelings of caring concern.

"I'm glad you're here. But I still…can't believe he sent that letter."

"To be honest I didn't think he'd stoop that low. But for the record, none of this was your fault."

"Why did he hate me so much?" Chase ponders as House twists himself to help Chase slowly sit upright.

"He hated life and everything in it; you were just part of that."

"But it was so…vindictive," Chase sighs as he rests his head back on the pillow. "About my mother…"

_'Your mother drank herself to death because you made it intolerable for her. She couldn't cope.'_

"Your mother was an alcoholic before you were born."

"I wasn't born with fetal alcohol syndrome," Chase argues back.

"You're not the cause of her death."

"I'm sorry what he said about you. He's…"

"I have a thick skin," House tells him in a kind but firm tone. "However…I want you to forget that damn letter and never think of that ignorant fool again."

"What about Foreman? What about my job?"

"You were cleared of that by the board; it's a petty threat and nothing more," House insists. "Nothing he said in that letter was true."

"And his will?"

"Worry about that when you have to."

"I'm worried now."

"Worry about it tomorrow. That's an order," House treads lightly.

"I'll try."

House can only nod as he gazes upon Chase's less than sincere smile; his mind and heart both acknowledging the fact that it would take more than just a few drunken hours to forget words that purposely hurt. "How'd you tip your chair?"

"I tried to get up…" Chase groans as he rubs his face; his brow furrowing once more as his fingers touch his slightly fat lip and then return to rest on his lap. "I was angry and drunk and I tried to get up. I wanted to get to the door and…and go after him and shove the damn letter down his throat," Chase concludes with an angry growl. "I heard his voice laughing at me and I just…"

"Wanted to kick his ass," House adds with a small nod. "This room needs a paint job," House muses, wanting to change the subject and infuse some lighter banter into the mounting silence.

"I might have to work over time now," Chase remarks as he tries to sit up.

"Honestly do I have to get the shackles?" House smirks as he pushes Chase back to his leaning position. "If you move to fast you'll throw up, which it's a miracle you haven't already."

"I feel dizzy," Chase remarks as he closes his eyes and then opens them again as he feels House getting off the bed. "I have no food in the fridge."

"I know. Stay."

Chase offers House a small, amused smile and watches the older man leave the room; his body sagging back down onto his side as he stares at the clock in wonder. He can't help but think on what kind of mindset his father must have been in to actually take delight in wanting to have his son's license revoked. "Why?"

He hears House muttering to himself in the kitchen about having food to feed the mice only and can't help but feel his sorrow starting to dissipate.

"You know I actually found a place that makes roasted wombat," House smiles as he comes back into the bedroom and eases himself down beside Chase's resting form.

"Barbeque flavor?" Chase retorts.

"Apple flavor," House grins before he uses the damp cloth to clean the dried blood from around his chin. "Bruno sends his regards."

"He's a good man."

"Told him he could come by tomorrow."

"Here?"

"No. Home…" House replies matter-of-factly as he hand rests on Chase's forehead. "Hangover fever."

"I have to pee."

"Want a cup?"

"Better than a catheter. Damn that thing was…"

"Icky?" House smirks as he gets back up and leaves the room in search of the wheelchair.

Chase slowly raises, his eyes closing and allowing the spinning room to slow so that by the time House had pushed the wheelchair right up beside the bed, he wasn't afraid of falling onto the floor back on his face. _Never letting go…House wouldn't let me fall, _Chase's mind states confidently as he slowly settles into the chair and exhales heavily.

"Tired out just doing that."

"For the record, Jack Daniels isn't a real friend."

"Was the closest one at the time," Chase lightly groans as his head starts to pound and he gently cradles it as House wheels him into the bathroom. "Thank you," Chase offers in a kind tone; House's hand resting on his shoulder and giving it a tender squeeze before he leaves the room and closes the door.

Chase looks at his reflection in the mirror and slightly smirks at the pieces of hair that had taken to standing upright on the top of his head. But as he looks at the rather swollen section on his bottom lip he quickly recalls his attempt at getting out of the wheelchair. He had nearly drunk half the bottle; his stomach was blazing and heart pounding but all he could see was his father's mocking image in front of him and before he knew it, he had pushed himself up…remaining upright for a few split seconds before crashing back down onto his belly; his lips uttering a painful cry as he tasted a small droplet of his own blood on his tongue. _And I stayed there until House came…he came because he wanted to. He didn't know about the letter until after he got here. He came on his own. He does care._

As he splashes some cold water on his face, Chase's heart finally finds some small measure of comfort that pushes aside his father's hurtful words and takes solace in the fact that House had proven Rowan Chase a liar – his son mattered to someone. Someone who wanted only to care in return and wasn't doing it because he had to win or get the upper hand.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Chase finishes what he has to and then heads back into his now warmed living room.

"I also found this on the floor. Do tell Dr. Chase?" House holds up the wooden spoon in wonder.

"Trying to reach the heat control," Chase huffs. "Forgot it was…"

"Within standing distance?"

"Yes," Chase nods as he nears the kitchen counter.

"All you have is Mr. Noodles."

"Someone cleaned out my fridge."

"Wanna eat here or…"

"Home?" Chase dares to ask in a somewhat timid tone as he looks up in uncertainty.

"My fridge is bigger and you know size matters," House retorts as Chase's face relaxes.

"Size does matter," Chase agrees. Their silly conversation about size continues for a few more minutes until a knock is heard at the door and dinner had finally arrived. Despite the fact that his stomach was still feeling a bit tender, he picks at the take out Chinese with slow determined bites; not wanting to tell House that he threw up some of the golden poison in the bathroom earlier.

Thankfully for Chase, House keeps the banter focused around food, Wilson's secret love of Twister and the fact that Bruno would be by tomorrow and the day after he would be going for his first assessment after the surgery – the date for his being able to finally start physiotherapy hanging on that meeting.

He didn't offer to much protest, when after supper he and House went about packing up the leftovers to take with them, setting the heat to a low but moderate setting and then heading outside into the cool night air and then into the warmish confines of the waiting handicapped bus.

"Home sweet home," House announces cheerily as they both enter the all too familiar establishment. "Movie time or bed time?"

Chase's mind considers both possibilities but as he feels a small yawn starting to creep up he knows there is only one option right now.

"Bed time."

"Fair enough. I haven't had my alone time today," House winks as Chase merely shakes his head and moves past.

"Just remember to close the door," Chase quips as he slowly enters his bedroom and stops, House slowly following and then watching from the doorway. "Thank you," he utters in a warm tone.

"You're welcome," House quietly accepts the praise, thankful that Chase hadn't brought up any more about this father's wretched letter. "Come on now…" House puts his arms around Chase's frame and helps him onto the bed, holding him in a fatherly hug a few seconds longer; offering another rare display of silent affection that Chase gratefully accepts. "Remember your bedtime friend?"

"Hello bedtime friend," Chase snickers as he grasps the small rubber ducky in his hands and then looks up at House in wonder. "Did you buy this for me or was this yours all along?"

"I have my own," House smiles as he puts the plastic toy onto the bedside table and pulls the covers over Chase. "Goodnight…Robert."

"Goodnight…Greg."

"Ah now that might get me to find that wooden spoon," House chirps as Chase offers a cheeky grin in return. House turns off the light and leaves the room, praying that Chase's mind would be able to just forget the horrible events of the day but knowing inside that sleep wouldn't be very solid. He'd be right.

_'Father…no…don't do this…' _Chase's mind offers him the horrible nightmare of him suck in his wheelchair, his wrists zip-tied to the arm rests and him unable to move; forced to watch his father burn his medical license and then watch in horror as a piece of heavy medical tape is placed over his mouth and he's unable to tell the board on a conference call that his father is wrong. His license is then revoked by the board since he didn't defend himself and his father walks away laughing. Chase watches himself helplessly struggling in the wheelchair before he wakes in a cold sweat, his lungs sucking in a small breath of air before his body slumps back into his bed.

"Damn…him…" Chase huffs as he turns on the light, smirking at the rubber ducky watching him and reaching for his wheelchair; his hand almost healed and thankfully not yelling at him to take it easy when he puts some pressure on it. He quietly heads into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge, closing the door and reaching for the small glass he had purposely set out for himself the night before.

He slowly drinks the cool water, allowing the soothing liquid to calm his agitated insides and then placing the glass back onto the counter and heading for the living room. He pulls as close to the window as possible and peers outside into the dark of night, unaware of the set of concerned eyes watching from the shadows. Chase leans back in his chair and then looks at the now small bandage on his hand before looking back outside.

"I finally matter….to someone who matters…to me," he confesses in a quiet tone; his heartfelt words not lost on the older man watching in wonder. House's heart instantly warms at the heartfelt confession; his body remaining in place so as not to let on that he knows; the confession obviously meant to be spoken in private. He leans back into the shadows as Chase pulls himself away from the window and heads back into his room; whispering a small goodnight to the silly little duck before the apartment is once again bathed in darkness and both fall asleep more contended than they had been in days.

XXXXXXXX

"And where is he now?" Wilson wonders as he looks at House in shock early the next morning; House just having told him all that Rowan said and then showing him the letter as proof.

"Was still asleep when I left. Didn't sleep well last night so I didn't wake him."

"After this I can't blame him. Have you spoken to Foreman?"

"Texted him yesterday to ask if Rowan had contacted him. He said no and I doubt he will."

"Petty threats meant to hurt. Well am glad he's gone. And…" Wilson looks at House in expectation.

"Yes I told him."

"You did?" Wilson asks in surprise. "You actually told Robert you did all that because you care about him?"

"I did and I think he believed me. Only had to beat him twice," House winks as Wilson offers him a wry smile.

"Well after all this he needs to know someone is doing something for his benefit and not because of a damn game."

"Speaking of games…wanna come over tonight?"

"I'm not playing Twister," Wilson deadpans.

"Strip poker?"

"Not sweetening the deal here."

"I can get some girls."

"Offer dinner and I'll be there."

"Dinner and Twister?"

"Just dinner. See you tonight."

"I'm still pulling out the Twister mat!" House calls after him as he looks at the clock and wonders how Chase was faring.

XXXXXXXX

Chase slowly opens his weary eyes, frowning as he looks at a piece of folded paper on his bedside table and quickly reaching for it.

_'Dear duckling…you overslept. Just for that you have to play Twister tonight. Stay away from my apples.'_

Chase's lips offer a small snicker as he puts the note back on the table and stretches, his toes actually feeling a small tingle in them and his mind focusing on that rather than the somewhat strained night he just endured. But as much as he might not actually tell House, inside he knows it feels good to matter to the older man looking after him; it was just the feeling of actually belonging that he had longed for his entire life. That he mattered…not because he was able to save a life…or get the girl or…whatever. Just because someone wanted to care about him because they did – not asking anything back in return. That comforting feeling would carry him through the day and nourish his very soul in the weeks and months…maybe even years to come.

The bulk of the day is spent resting, cleaning and reading – tasks that he was actually content to perform in the still apartment. Late afternoon he finally hears a knock on the door and hurries toward it; pulling it open with a friendly smile. Thankfully this time his father's image doesn't appear and he's able to smile up at Bruno and relax.

"Hey Dr. Chase," Bruno greets with a warm smile.

"Welcome Bruno. How's Carl?" He asks, both of them snickering at the use of the wrong name for the other physiotherapist – Noel.

"I think he's actually put in for a name change," Bruno laughs as they head for the bathroom. "How's the hand?"

"Strong enough to try to hold my weight again," Chase replies hopefully.

"Ah that's what I like to hear."

Chase heads into his bedroom and undresses as best he can, grabbing the little rubber ducky and heading back into the hallway and then the bathroom, where Bruno had already turned on the water and was ready to go.

"One more day Bruno and then I go for my assessment," Chase mentions as Bruno completely denudes him and then prepares to hoist him into the air.

"Then you'll hafta put up with me and Carl," Bruno smirks as he helps Chase hold onto the handrails in the shower and stand for a few seconds with Bruno holding his hips. "How's that?"

"Feels…good," Chase replies in truth as he once again feels some tingling sensations in his feet. Bruno's strong hands let go and start to gently massage his skin, pausing to ask Chase about the rather odd shaped bruise on his back but not pressing further when Chase tells him he fell out of his wheelchair in a drunken fit. Luckily for Chase, Bruno doesn't press the subject and just continues on with the shower.

Bruno trades off with Chase, holding his body as he does a brief wash and then carefully placing him back into the bathing chair so he could finish up what he wanted. After he completely finishes and is dried and dressed, Chase heads into the living room to find Bruno on the chair browsing through one of House's latest medical journals and stops.

"Want to stay for dinner?"

"You sure it's okay?"

"It's okay," Chase replies in haste.

"Sure thing. Want me to help you make it?"

"You cook also?"

"Gotta help my mom these days. Her hips aren't so good. My cooking's not that great but it's edible," Bruno explains as they head into the kitchen. For the next hour, the two of them spend the time talking, laughing, bonding and just enjoying each other's company; trying to make something edible for supper. Chase more than determined to not allow his father's vindictiveness to kill emotionally destroy him and telling himself Bruno was a friend with no ulterior motive.

"Is that burnt duckling I smell again?" House quips as he enters his apartment, his lips parting into a warm smile as he hears the TV gently playing in the background, friendly banter in the kitchen and the smell of something being made in the kitchen. "Who burnt dinner?" House inquires; chuckling as both Chase and Bruno point to each other and then laugh. "Hopefully Wilson had a big lunch."

"Wilson?"

"He was…"

"I'm right here…apologizing to the delivery man you just accosted," Wilson huffs as he drops his coat and briefcase in the living room, along with his suit jacket and tie and joins the three already in the kitchen.

"He looked suspicious," House retorts seriously.

"Did he have a black mustache?" Chase inquires.

"He did. Oh don't tell me…you're still on the groucho marks thing?" Wilson rolls his eyes as he looks over at House.

"Just for that you can't play Twister later."

"And that's meant to punish me?" Wilson retorts, earning a small laugh from Chase and Bruno. "I will happily consider myself sidelined."

"Twister?" Bruno looks at House in shock.

"You can be on my team."

"I can just roll onto the mat and win," Chase pipes up.

"Really? And what are we having for dinner?" House asks as he looks directly at Chase.

"Apple?" Chase holds up meekly, earning an enduring smile from House.

"That'll be my desert," House winks; the inside joke lost on the other two around them. "Okay so let's see…what we can salvage…"

As the four of them go about making something edible for them all to eat, Chase pauses for a moment to look at those around him, first at Bruno; the young man had quickly cemented himself into Chase's heart as a trusted friend and knows that with him helping with his phyiso the road to recovery would be more enjoyable than he had first thought. Wilson – the man who quietly supported House and was the instrument in getting his older guardian to audibly confess what he had been holding inside – genuine fatherly concern. And lastly he looks at House and smiles affectionately. He had taken him in at first because he felt sorry for him; pity an unspoken motive but never fully confessed. His father's actions had made Chase worry that House's only motivation after that, coming for him as he did when he was stuck in his high priced prison, was to merely show Rowan that no one could one up Greg House and live with bragging rights. But despite his own inner insecurities, he had heard House's heartfelt confession of concern – the only thing he had wanted since he was horribly sidelined and was told to fend for himself by his cruel father – a sentiment that had defined him since a small boy and he feared until he was an old man.

But as he feels House playfully ruffle his hair and feels his lips offer an automatic chuckle he knows one thing is certain – Rowan Chase had lost – everything. In the end it was his son, who would prove victorious. He was wanted after all – that's all he would ever need to feel.

"Okay, try this…" House's request breaks into his thoughts.

"What is it?"

"Apple stuffed duckling," House grins as he hands Chase the steaming morsel. "Sweet and tasty…just the way I like it."

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so since this is AU I took a few liberties with how Rowan wrote Chase out of his will and figured this would just hammer home the angst for Chase even more and make House want to confess even more and so hope you all thought it applied here (and again I hope there was the balance between caring House and regular House). So hopefully you liked how this all factored into House's caring confession for Chase and how Chase now seems on his way to recovery – which he is. I think one more chappy to go (not sure how long you all wanted this but I didn't want it to get boring!) so please do review before you go (b/c you know your reviews are pure gold and magic-they make things appear like more chappies hehe) and thanks so much!


	12. A plan for the Future

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 12 – A plan for the Future **

**A/N: **Thanks Reena (you don't have an account so just wanted to mention here) it wasn't Carl it was Bruno b/c if you remember earlier in the story he was mistaken that Rowan was dead and House never corrected him so that was still keeping with Bruno's thinking. And yes Chase isn't going to be penniless but this is AU so wanted him to have a bit more of a financial strain so he could stay with House (plus we do know he was caught by House double dipping for pay so something was up-I just made up a bit more). Thank you for your time to read and to everyone I hope you like this update!

* * *

For the first time in weeks, Chase's mind awakens the next morning feeling refreshed and at peace. Despite the fact that the evening had closed with enough fun and happy times to fuel happy thoughts the nagging voice in the back of his head reminding him of his father's hurtful words, were still there; ensuring his night was a bit fitful and restless. In the end he would come to realize that he actually felt sorry for his father; the older Dr. Chase's quest for professional recognition and a comfortable salary would mean nothing as he would die alone – a sad but fitting end to a man who had spent his entire life isolating and pushing away those supposedly closest to him, not caring that he hurt them in his wake.

Chase turns and looks at the rubber ducky beside his bed and can't help but offer a small chuckle at the little piece of red plastic taped into his mouth – the apple. "You'll choke on that," Chase mutters as he gently peels the piece of tape away thus allowing the small orange beak to be open once more.

"Oh you ruined his fun."

"Ducks don't eat apples."

"Actually they do in small pieces they just don't play with them," House counters with a serious tone as he nears the end of Chase's bed and eases himself down. "Sleep well?"

"A bit restless," Chase gently frowns. "But that's to be expected right?"

"It will pass," House assures him with a warm smile. "You can always sleep with your ducky if you need some added reassurance."

"I just need some good news today and I might actually feel like celebrating tonight."

"Strip twister?"

"Not that kind of celebrating," Chase rolls his eyes as House offers a mock pout. "I'm not falling for that pout."

"It's true you do have a better pout," House states matter-of-factly. "Am sure Dr. Gibbons will give you the all clear to start your mild physio."

"You've spoken to him already haven't you?" Chase offers a small glare at House.

"Who me? I think you have mistaken me for another person who likes to snoop and pry into other people's affairs."

"What'd he say?"

"I'm not telling," House retorts with a wide grin. "Come on now…time to pout," House goads. "Wilson would."

"Only because you'd do something to him at work if he didn't. I don't pout on command," Chase retorts with a smirk as he slowly sits up. He feels his forehead and then looks at House with a small frown. "Did Foreman hear from my father?"

"No. It was a petty lie. Your license is waiting for you to get back. You know if you feel like playing maid today…"

"I'm not putting on an apron," Chase playfully banters back. House helps Chase into his wheelchair and the two of them continue their silly banter about Chase earning some extra money as House's maid as they head into the kitchen to get breakfast started. The small bandage on Chase's hand was finally gone, the stitches removed and a small scar now left to heal on its own time. His hand was free for full use.

House finally leaves for work, letting Chase go at his own pace and get ready for his outing on his own; already knowing the positive news that Dr. Gibbons was going to offer the younger man – he was well on the road to recovery and could start with some mild physiotherapy to get his system ready for when he'd start the more rigorous routine of relearning how to walk.

As he waits for the elevator sometime later, Chase looks down at his legs, remembering with a fond smile the first tingling sensation when Bruno first helped him stand on them about a week ago. It was a wonderful feeling as and he had told his new friend it felt like hope.

"Good day Dr. Chase," the driver to the handicapped bus greets Chase as he slowly wheels on. Chase locks his wheelchair close to the front and engages in some friendly chatter with the driver; his mood upbeat and his mind relaxed. He enters the hospital and instantly his nervous anxiety skyrockets and for a split second he considers turning around and heading back into the safe confines of House's apartment.

But soon Taub appears and then Adams…Park and of course Foreman and after talking to them all a bit and getting that over with he feels his anxiety lessen, especially when Foreman, who's the last to leave, pulls away and Chase is able to see House watching him from a distance. House gives him a small nod before he turns and disappears back into his office; Chase continuing on toward his waiting appointment.

"Hello Dr. Chase, come in," Dr. Gibbons greets him with a friendly smile. Chase slowly wheels inside, ready for his examination and the schedule for next week.

XXXXXXXX

"Hey Dr. Chase," Bruno greets sometime later as Chase slowly wheels himself into the physiotherapy area, wanting to see what he'd be presented with next week.

"Hello Bruno. Hard at work I see. You're all smiles today."

"Well I was told I am getting a raise," the large man smiles. "I sure didn't ask for it but I sure could use it. My momma…she's in a bad way but this news…this is gonna make her smile and be proud," he grins.

"Well you have certainly earned it. But you know…" Chase's face turns serious. "You might need another one after dealing the patient you'll be getting next week."

"Really? You're starting here?"

"First thing Monday morning," Chase answers with a large smile of his own.

"That's great news!" Bruno gives him a high five a Noel walks up to them.

"Is this Carl?"

"A friend of Dr. House's I presume?" Carl deadpans.

"This is his duckling, Robert."

"His what…?" Noel looks from Chase to Bruno as both of them laugh and he just mutters something about House being from another planet and walking away.

"He's harmless," Bruno snickers as his next patient enters.

"Alright I'll let you go."

"See you tomorrow," Bruno calls out as Chase agrees to the visit and slowly wheels himself out of the physio room and then heads for the elevators, wanting to pop into House's office for a few minutes before heading back home. _Home? Wait…House's apartment…it's not home…it could be…no I can't suggest that…just during phyiso/rehab? _His mind ponders as the elevator stops and he heads toward House's office door. He offers a frown to the empty room but as his eyes rest on something behind his office chair, Chase can't help but snicker as he nears.

"Is he serious?"

"As a heart attack," House quips from behind as Chase pulls his gaze away from the Twister mat and quickly looks up at House as he nears.

"Who do you bully into playing this with?"

"Interns," House replies seriously. "I tell them they have to do one move or I'll fail them."

"No wonder your intake has lessened by half," Chase retorts in sarcasm.

"My boy gets some good news and all of a sudden he's lippy," House tosses back; Chase's mind elated on the pet term '_my boy_' but not wanting to make a big deal audibly either.

"Can't imagine the student's comments. Dr. House is very odd…engaging but he made us play Twister."

"Teacher would probably thank me for forcing them to do something physical," House states as he plunks himself down into his chair and looks at the rather relaxed and contented expression on the face of the younger man before him. The weeks, prior had him only wearing a heavy frown or look of uncertainty; but today, he was out…had gotten some good news about his progress and hopefully buried for good his father's ugly words. "Said hi to the happy gang yet?"

"Yep and they are all…happy," Chase smirks as he refers to the team he was still apart of but sidelined due to his injury.

"So what's on the rest of the duckling agenda for today?"

"Well…" Chase starts and then lightly frowns; his facial expression not lost on the older man before him, even as he tries to paste on a fake smile and continue. "Thought I might try picking up a few groceries and then…"

"Want to tell me the truth?"

"I should start looking for a new apartment. Just some financial things I need to sort out, but that's my burden to bear," Chase offers with a small nervous chuckle.

"I told you not to worry about that right now."

"Well I'll still have to move. That apartment is too expensive…" Chase's voice trails off as he looks down at the mat with a small frown and then back up at House's inspecting gaze. "I'll get some groceries and see you later."

"Down go down any dark alleys alone."

"I'll be home before dark," Chase adds in a serious tone as House nods back.

House watches Chase wheel out of his office and leans back in his chair, his disdain for Rowan Chase surging once more. _Bastard! _He curses as he considers for a moment texting Rowan that no matter what he did, he'd always lose but reminds himself that Rowan did have powerful ties and he still could just as easily take away the job he helped his son get so decides to leave it. However, at the moment what House doesn't know is in about six months, he would be holding the trump card as Rowan would get some life ending news of his own and never again be able to torment his only son; a living gift he never cherished.

"Still wanted to hit him with my cane," House growls as his pager goes off and he gives the small device a hearty scowl. "Can't anyone do anything around here without me?" He laments as he pushes himself away from his desk and heads for the door.

About an hour later, House finishes up with Taub and then heads back into the hallway, stopping as he looks with interest at Wilson standing and peering into the ER.

"It's the ER!" House announces as Wilson utters a small gasp and turns to House with an exasperated expression. "I don't see any cute girls. Who are you watching?"

"See the guy in the bed being treated for the side wound?"

"He's not cute."

"I've seen him before but I just can't place it," Wilson mutters to himself as he turns back.

"Chase got his walking papers today?"

"Really he walked?" Wilson retorts as House purses his lips. "How is…he..b…now I know where I've seen him."

"Chase?"

"No the guy in the bed there. He's the one that attacked Chase in the laundry room at your apartment building."

"Really? You sure?"

"I'm sure. That's where I've seen that tattoo on the back of his neck before and I…" Wilson's voice trails off as he turns to see House already heading for the ER examination room. "House!" Wilson hisses in futility.

XXXXXXXX

Despite the fact that the skies had turned overcast, Chase's mood was still lifted thanks to the positive news from Dr. Gibbons. He knows the upcoming week will be starting off slow with leg exercises and then some time with easy weights to get his upper body strength built so that when he finally does start his walking therapy, the exertion on his heart would be able to withstand the output and not hand him a physical setback.

Chase enters the supermarket and reaches for a basket, suddenly realizing he wouldn't be able to push a cart around and even if he did, he wouldn't be able to carry all the items back into the apartment. _I need to walk again…_his mind laments as he pauses in one of the aisles and looks up; his eyes darting around for a store clerk but then finding no one around to help with items out of reach.

So with a rather glum sigh he gets a few things he can actually reach and then heads for the appropriate checkout line, his mind wondering how people do it on a regular basis. _I will learn to walk again…what about those that never will? _He ponders as he notices a teen staring at him before turning away with a less than amused expression.

And just to add a bit more misery to his once very bright day, the sky opens up just as he exits the grocery store and starts to pelt him with heavy, cold raindrops.

"Of course…" Chase groans as he slowly heads for the bus stop, breathing a small sigh of relief for the shelter but knowing that he's going to get home – soaked.

"You forgot your umbrella Dr. Chase," the bus driver greets as Chase slowly wheels onto the bus deck with his single bag of groceries on his lap.

"Was too distracted this morning," Chase lightly groans as the bus pulls away. But he tries not to let the dismal weather dampen his good mood – next week he'd be starting physio and hopefully a few weeks after that his walking training. As he nears the stop to House's apartment, his mind now starts to dwell upon his current living predicament. House hadn't out rightly suggested that he live with him even temporarily, although he did keep referring to it as 'home'. _ I don't want to be a further burden…I'll just spend the weekend and then move back Sunday night._

"Here we are…you okay getting to the door?"

"Am already wet," Chase replies with a small smile. "Thank you."

Chase heads for the plank to go out, the rain not letting up and soaking him thoroughly by the time he reaches the door. Chase rests in the silent common area for a few moments before he heads for the elevator, wanting nothing more than to get his wet clothes off and get into the bathroom for a hot shower. But without Bruno…._I can try on my own…_his mind contemplates. _I just won't try to stand yet…_his mind assures the rest of his body; his back offering a small ache as it reminds him of the folly of his ways after he fell out of the wheel chair, landed on it and then rolled away, bruising his back.

But as soon as he pushes open the apartment door, he stares in surprise at the male figure before him. "What are you doing home so early?" Was just the natural question to ask.

"I was going to take you out to celebrate your good news," House replies with a concerned expression as he hears Chase's wet frame. "My duckling got all wet. Don't you know you can't swim yet?"

"I don't have an umbrella," Chase groans with a small glum expression. "Wasn't thinking about the rain this morning."

"Come on…lets get you into some dry clothes and…my god man you're freezing," House utters as he feels Chase's icy cold hands.

"Well it's not summer out," Chase retorts in sarcasm as he shakes his head, sending a few droplets in all directions; his damp dirty blond hair still pasted down to his head.

"Here…this will make you look less pathetic," House snickers as he arranges Chase's wet locks into a small faux-hawk and Chase purses his lips and looks up with an un-amused smile. "Well I like it," House retorts as he takes the wet plastic bag from Chase's lap and heads into the kitchen, Chase taking off his wet jacket and then heading for his bedroom.

"If it's all the same…" Chase's voice starts out in a loud tone before and utters a small gasp as House suddenly appears, "I'd rather just shower and stay in? Maybe watch some lame movies?"

"Lame movies it is. Do you need Bruno?"

"No I can manage, I just need some help with….the bathing chair," Chase states rather meekly.

"Strip," House playfully orders as Chase lightly frowns, quickly realizing he's not been fully naked in front of House before. "We have the same stuff remember? Only yours is Australian."

"It's the same," Chase deadpans as he slowly peels off his sweater; his upper body thankfully warm from the jacket but his lower body cold and unable to move on their own to get warmed up. "You're quieter than normal tonight," Chase mentions in a nervous tone, wondering if House was in some way inspecting him as he shed his clothing.

House's eyes linger on the dark bruise on Chase's back; his eyes outlining the odd shape on his smooth, pale skin and remembering what led up to Chase's self-imposed tumble.

"I'm hungry."

"I'm not that tasty," Chase lightly retorts as House merely offers him a small smile. "How's it look?"

"Sore," House lightly whispers as his fingers gently trace the outline of the dark markings; pulling back when he hits a spot more tender and Chase's lips gently wince; Chase's skin raising with shiver bumps at House's touch.

"Okay…up you go," House tells him in a kind tone as he helps lift him into the plastic bathing chair; Chase wearing only his underwear. His skin instantly blazes with a fresh covering of shiver bumps and House knows he needs to get him under the hot water to warm his numb legs and fast.

Thinking that maybe House's silence was something to do with him extending his stay, Chase now wonders if he shouldn't just bring up the subject first and save himself further emotional heartache at House saying he has overstayed his welcome and to pack up in a few days.

"So I was thinking that maybe…"

"Thinking…" House quips as he turns on the hot water and then quickly ducks back out of the shower stall before he could get wet, "is not game we're playing tonight."

"Well I know come Monday…when my rehab starts and I'll um…" Chase's voice stammers as he looks away nervously. "I just don't want to be a further burden," he concludes with a quiet voice.

"That's just silly talk. Now have your shower before I really will be eating frozen duckling for supper," House tells him firmly before he leaves the bathroom and Chase is left alone to ponder his thoughts once again.

"Well…he didn't say no," Chase huffs as he wheels himself under the hot streams, first off giving his whole body a warm spray and then positioning his legs and trying to massage them with his hands to get some warmth back into them. Still he can't help but muse about House's noticeably quiet demeanour.

House hears Chase muttering to himself in the bathroom and leans against the wall, his mind instantly taking him back to the moment in the ER when he was standing face to face with Chase's would be attacker.

_'How'd this happen?' House asked the gruff looking man on the bed._

_'Fell off a ladder. And yeah I got insurance.'_

_'Goody. Do you have a home address?'_

_'Yeah what's it to ya?'_

_'Everything if you want to get treated.'_

_'You can't deny me medical help because I won't give you my address.'_

_'Why not? I have for better reasons. Ever been in the neighborhood of….' House gave his address._

_'No.'_

_'Liar. I have no cure for that I'm afraid. This infected bruise right here at the base of your neck. How'd you get that?'_

_'Look can I get…'_

_'I can call the cops and have them bust you for assault if you don't start telling me the truth. Who hired you to attack this man?' House asked as he pulled his phone and showed the man a picture of Chase. The man took a deep breath and then hesitated, House promising not to call the cops he just wanted to know who if anyone paid him to do it._

_'Some older guy with an accent. British maybe. Never saw his face. It was just over the phone. Was a referral. It wasn't supposed to go the way it did. He wasn't supposed to fight back.'_

_'What were you told?'_

_'Old guy told me it was just a scare job. Just to go to that guy in the wheelchair and like tip it over or something but then he fought back and I had to defend myself and then I was hit by someone from behind. So you gonna help me or what?'_

Rowan! _You bastard…you hired someone to attack your own son just so you could lay claim to the fact that he wasn't safe with me. Now that pisses me off! _He had told Wilson, who although just as angry, reminded him that he never saw Rowan or was given his name and if they looked at the PayPal account would probably find it already closed and under a false name. It would be a battle of words with Chase the only emotional loser.

_'He's already endured enough emotional injury at his father's hands, don't tell him this one,' Wilson had pleaded._

It wasn't like House needed much to convince Chase what an uncaring bastard his father really was but Wilson was right…telling Chase his father hired someone to attack him just to get back at House and show that House was dangerous to be around, might just set him back and he was already dealing with enough. This secret would be his burden to bear. A necessary burden to ensure Chase's emotional wellbeing; something his new paternal instincts wanted to protect the young man from.

House hears the shower come to a completion and then heads for the bathroom door and knocks.

"Almost…done," Chase looks up as House enters with a caring smile.

"You know boiled duckling might be just as tasty," House states, his genuine smile putting Chase's anxious mind to rest and allowing him to shelve the discussion about him possibly leaving in a few days to go back to his lonely apartment; ultimately finding a new lonely apartment.

"Boiled?" Chase smirks as House gently dries his pinkish skin, careful not to add further damage to the bruises on his back. He helps Chase stretch his now warm legs as he gently dries them and looks up with a small smile.

"Let's get the rest of you dried and dressed," House mentions warmly as he helps Chase dry everywhere else. Once he was fully dried, House carefully helps Chase back into his own wheelchair and then playfully messes his hair once more.

"Maybe I'll dye the tips," House teases as Chase looks up with arched brows.

"Yellow?"

"Rubber ducky yellow, perfect. Now hurry up and dress for dinner. I'm hungry," House mentions as he slowly pushes Chase's naked frame out of the bathroom and into his bedroom so he could finish dressing in privacy. House heads back into the kitchen, passing his phone just as it buzzes to life; his fingers quick to reach for it and read the text from Wilson.

_'Our friend the mugger was arrested for another attempted mugging.'_

_'How'd you know?'_

_'Because I called the police.'_

_'What? He tried to mug you?'_

_'More like get even and yes I'm okay. Didn't like my diagnosis.'_

_'Always knew you were a closet hard ass.'_

House smirks and then frowns at the text and makes a mental note to check on his best friend tomorrow and hope Wilson was telling him the truth that he was indeed okay.

"So I finally met Carl today," Chase announces as he enters the kitchen to help with supper.

"How is Carl?" House asks with a smile; his phone already away before Chase could see and ask what was going on.

"He thinks you're from another planet."

"I am…Venus," House retorts without missing a beat.

"I thought men were from Mars?" Chase queries as he nears his space by the counter; things arranged within reaching distance.

"Men are," House answers seriously as he looks at Chase and holds his wondering gaze for a few seconds before his face softens into a smile.

"Right and you're from Vulcan. Forgot that," Chase offers in sarcasm as House holds up the Vulcan (live long and prosper) hand sign.

"You know Star Trek might be on tonight."

"I thought you said you got Space Balls."

"I did. Your pick."

"Well Space Balls of course. You know for its serious acting and all."

"Space Balls it is. Now try this."

"What is it?"

"Cheese balls," House quips with a mouthful. The two of them chatter more about space in general and if either of them has ever gone star gazing and then of course it was time for dinner. Chase feels his anxiety lessen even further as the evening progresses and the earlier tension that House was exuding before had now nearly disappeared for good.

"Want a snuggie?" House inquiries after he had helped Chase arrange himself on the couch for their at home celebration evening.

"You actually bought one?"

"Two. Red or blue?"

"Blue please," Chase requests, only to smirk as House tosses him the folded up red one.

"I like blue."

"Then why did you even offer me a choice?" Chase challenges as he unfolds the red.

"To be fair," House nods as he plunks himself down beside Chase and reaches for the remote.

"Oh…did you want this?" Chase holds up the remote in his right hand in a teasing motion as House looks at him with an amused expression.

"I know you're ticklish," House threatens.

"Yes but you have to pity me right now since I can't fairly fight back."

"Since when did that stop me? You know I don't like to play fair."

"True," Chase agrees as he flips on the TV and turns to the home shopping channel.

"My duckling's asking for it isn't he?" House lightly grumbles as the lady on the screen comes out wearing a hoodie and track pants. "Makes her ass look fat."

"That's terrible."

"It does and she has a nice ass," House muses as Chase rolls his eyes. "Change the channel or I'll unplug the TV."

"Spoiled sport," Chase huffs as he presses the button and a news channel comes on. "Is that…Canadian news?"

"They have better stuff up there," House retorts as he quickly snatches the remote from Chase's loose grasp; offering a firm poke to his left side and Chase shrinking back with a small chuckle. "Mine," House declares in triumph as Chase quickly offers a mock pout. "Ok-ay…" House hands him back the remote. "Five minutes young man and then I'm taking it back."

With an exaggerated gleeful grin Chase starts to channel surf, pausing on another lame show – dumbest stuff on wheels; but one they both instantly take to, Space Balls on hold until the half our mockumentary was over.

"I can't believe someone would even write this script much less pay money to make it," Chase comments as the movie starts up; both of them taking delight in chastising the movie meant to be a mockery of the real Star Wars franchise. But its not long before the events of the day soon take their toll on both and Chase sags into House, his head resting on his shoulder, eyes closed and House's head back on the couch, nearly asleep.

About twenty minutes later, House feels a stiffening in his neck and then slowly opens his eyes to see Chase still asleep on his shoulder and offers him a tender gaze. His mind holds back a surge of anger at Rowan's underhanded tricks just to get back at him – not caring about hurting his only son in the process. _How could he hurt a man who only ever wanted to be loved by his father?_

"Bed time," House mentions in a soft tone as he gently taps Chase's cheek; regrettably dislodging himself from Chase's warm frame and helping him into his wheelchair, his legs not strong enough to carry Chase's body all the way to his bedroom without fear of dropping him and doing his beloved duckling further harm.

"Goodnight Robert," House whispers as he pulls the covers over Chase and then turns out the light, leaving the room; his mind determined come morning to help Chase settle his living arrangements until he could walk on his own – without crutches.

XXXXXXXX

"So what is on Robert's to do list for today?" House wonders early Saturday morning as Chase wheels himself into the kitchen and gratefully accepts a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee.

"Thinking I'd go back to my apartment to…"

"Get a few things?" House quickly interjects as Chase looks up with a frown.

"Or…I…" his voice pauses as he looks down, taking a sip at the same time.

"You want to stay here but you don't want to ask because you don't want to feel like you're being a burden and you don't want to stay in that apartment alone which in a few weeks you won't be able to afford and will be forced to look for something a lot cheaper," House rambles off as Chase looks up in surprise. "If I wanted you to leave I would have told you."

"Thought you felt sorry for me."

"I do…sometimes," House answers with a small smile. "Like when you wanted the remote."

"I just don't want to be a bur…" Chase starts only to have House's finger gently rest on his lips and stop his speech.

"For the record…you've never been a burden to me."

"But you said…"

"I did lie about that. You were never a burden to me," House refers to saying he was a necessary burden the first night he came to stay with him. "I want you to stay here until you can walk out on your own."

"I can pay for…"

"I'm not hard up for money; but I do like the company," House admits in truth. "I want you to stay…if you want to stay."

"I want to stay," Chase agrees in haste.

"That's taken care of. Now…about your good news celebration."

"I don't need…"

"Wasn't asking actually," House interjects. "You really have no choice here."

"Okay."

"Here's my plan…" House's voice trails as he starts to put together some ingredients for an omelet; Chase listening with a relaxed feeling. In truth he didn't want to face his rehab each day and then come home to an empty apartment each night, talking to himself or falling asleep in front of the TV – alone. He too wanted the company and staying with someone who he liked and wanted him around was going to be the best un-prescribed medicine. After breakfast, the two of them get dressed to go out; Chase more than thankful that the day was only partly overcast with no chance of rain.

"The zoo?" Chase asks as the handicapped bus pulls into the zoo parking lot and Chase looks around the bustling area in wonder.

"First stop…the duck pond," House announces as the bus driver looks at them in wonder. "He likes ducks," House deadpans as Chase chuckles. The two of them enter the gates, Chase completely unaware of the activities going on in another part of town. As promised they near the duck pond and Chase can only groan and then lightly laugh as House tries to catch one of the ducks, glaring at a small child that gave him a scolding stare in return.

"They're not my ducklings."

They linger by the duck pond a bit longer, just talking in general about Chase's upcoming rehab schedule, what football team Bruno might have ended up with, Wilson's secret love for the fast and furious franchise and who was now bearing the work brunt with him out of commission.

They finally leave the duck pond and head into the main part of the zoo, House unable to resist mimicking some of the animals and drawing some irate stares from parents, but amused stares from their children – which of course is what he ultimately wanted.

"And now for our gourmet lunch," House declares as he places two hotdogs, fries and drinks down on the table at lunch time.

"The secret is in the sauce. What is the sauce by the way?"

"I think its mustard."

"You think?" Chase looks up in wonder.

"That's why I didn't get any," he smirks as Chase groans before picking up his hotdog to taste it. "Well?" House inquires.

"Spicy…but not bad," he admits in truth as House nods. They casually enjoy the rest of their lunch before pulling away, House this time pushing Chase, slowly meandering through the crowds on their way to where the big cats were being fed; House making a few small jokes at Chase's expense about him not being able to get away and being a tasty meal, one woman looking over with a cross expression as House merely grins back in return.

After they had covered the length of the zoo, House tells Chase he's getting tired of walking and suggests either home or he gets an electric wheelchair in which they can then race.

"Party pooper," House teases as soon as Chase shoots down the lame idea. So they slowly head for the bus and then back to House's apartment; Chase wondering if Bruno was still coming over or if wanted to spend his Saturday night with his own friends instead of giving him a shower and then maybe sticking around for dinner.

"What time…House…what are you doing?" Chase insists as they come to a stop outside the door to House's apartment and house pulls out his black satin sleeping mask and starts to put it over Chase's eyes.

"Ah!" House swats at Chase's hand before he can pull the blindfold up. "No peaking."

"What am I not supposed to see?" Chase asks as House opens the door to his apartment and slowly pushes Chase inside, smiling at the two people before him as he heads for Chase's bedroom. "House?"

"Hush a few seconds longer," House playfully scolds as he pushes Chase into his bedroom and then leans in closer. "Can we please play hide and seek later?"

"What is my surprise?" Chase asks with a small smirk.

"I asked first."

"No."

"Then it stays on."

"Fine…yes," Chase resigns with a brief chuckle.

"Goody," House grins as he looks at Wilson who rolls his eyes and Bruno who merely shakes his head. House gently removes the blindfold and lets Chase look at the scene before him.

Chase looks in happy surprise at the bedroom before him; in the morning it had merely held a few person things of his, but now it looked just like his bedroom in his own apartment – thanks to Wilson and Bruno's undertaking.

"Welcome home," House whispers warmly as his hand rests on Chase's shoulder and gives it a fatherly squeeze.

* * *

**A/N: ** Again this is AU so I took some liberties with the living arrangements b/c I figure that Chase wouldn't want to just do all his physio and then spend every night alone while he recoups. And okay so it seems this isn't the ending as I had planned b/c I wanted to cover a few more things in this chappy as the lead up to Chase's rehab which I'll write you all a chappy for that next and hope its okay (I really do like the Chase/Bruno friendship)! Please let me know before you go in a review what you thought and thank you also much! Sweet I can call you all my review ducklings hehe :D


	13. A Time to Panic?

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 13 – A Time to Panic?**

* * *

Saturday had ended on such a positive note that for a few seconds Chase actually pondered calling his father to gloat about being surrounded by people that actually did care. But he shelves the thought as he knows his father would verbally scold him for being a grown man and drowning in such sentimentality was a waste of time and that they were only doing it out of pity.

_'Once you start walking, the pity party will be over,' _his father's words start to dance around in his weary brain as he sits in his newly furnished room and looks around with a small smile. Bruno and Wilson had done an amazing job of making him forget his lonely apartment and for the first time in weeks he feels inside he can actually call House's apartment home and not feel like he's over stepping an unseen boundary.

"You promised remember?" House snickers as he comes up behind Chase and tries to fit the blindfold over his eyes.

"I think I'd rather play Twister," Chase deadpans as he tries to move his head.

"Really?" House asks with glee as Chase allows him to finally fit the mask over his eyes. "Blindfolded twister?"

"I'd just roll onto the mat and win," Chase slightly smirks as he remains in place. But as House spies what he's trying to hide in his right hand his brow furrows. He quickly plucks the phone from Chase's grasp and pulls back, Chase instantly pulling the blindfold off and trying wheel backward to get his phone back.

"House…give that back."

"You think it would make a difference if you told him the good news?" House holds up the phone just out of Chase's reach; Rowan's name on the display.

"I wasn't going to. I had thought about it and then figured he wouldn't care," Chase correctly surmises as he slumps back into the wheelchair and offers House a small frown. "After tonight I was on such a high that I thought I could tell him and still come out on top for it."

"And he'd make up some cruel excuse and send my duckling back into the lonely end of the pond," House replies in truth as he clears the screen. "Best to just let it go."

"Right," Chase nods with a tight lipped expression as he takes his phone and then places it onto the dresser and looks around and then back up at House. "They really did a great job."

"Wilson was the brains behind this…Bruno the brawn."

"Very fitting," Chase agrees with a small cough; drawing instant concern from the older man watching him. "Think…it's time for bed."

"You coughed earlier too."

"Guess the rainstorm didn't do me any good yesterday."

"You know if you wanted to play wet tee-shirts you could have just wheeled yourself into the shower stall. At least there's hot water in there," House states seriously.

"I'll remember that for next time," Chase retorts with his own mock serious expression. "I did have fun today."

"You liked the duck pond best right?" House grins as he helps Chase dress for bed.

"Actually…I liked it all. Just liked being outside."

"A lot funner than grocery shopping?" House lightly mocks as he helps Chase get into bed, gently pushing his legs under the covers.

"Funner isn't a word," Chase firmly corrects him; only to have House lift the blindfold that was still on his neck and cover his mouth.

"It was funner," House winks as Chase offers a less than amused expression and yanks the piece of black satin from off his head and hands it to House.

"You spoiled my fun," House pouts as Chase offers a small sleepy nod and then coughs again. House's hand briefly feels Chase's forehead and cheek before moving to his neck; the added warmth telling him his duckling had caught a cold. "The weather spoiled my fun. Sleep now. We'll play tomorrow."

"Goodnight."

House pulls the covers up and tucks them in around Chase's shoulders before giving the younger man a small smile; his fingers reaching for the light and turning it off; bathing them in near darkness, the only light coming in from the hallway. For a few brief seconds, House considers commandeering Chase's phone and deleting Rowan's number for good. But that wasn't his call…it was Chase's; the choice ultimately being the younger doctor's to remove his father from his life as his father had so casually done to his only son.

House heads back into his room and slumps down onto his bed, looking at a picture of him and Chase taken a few days before the stabbing; both of them wearing goofy faces and trying to best the other at something. Didn't matter what it was, it was the look of fun and contentment on their faces; something he wants Chase to get back to feeling automatically; wanting his father's black shadow to fade for good.

But as he ponders the coming weeks, he knows that Chase isn't going to have an easy time with his rehab and wonders what he could do to help ease some of the tension.

XXXXXXXX

"Is my duckling sick this morning?" House sits down beside Chase on his bed, the next morning.

"Yes…I think so," Chase huffs as he tries to sit up; a heated swell coming over him and instantly forcing him back down onto the pillow. He looks up at House with a small, miserable pout.

"Now that's a genuine pout."

"I can't be sick," Chase moans as he tosses back the covers to allow some heat to escape his warm frame. "I need to start physio tomorrow."

"Where are my shackles?" House teases as his hand rests on Chase's forehead.

"You know if you mention that again I'll have dreams about it."

"Not nightmares?" House counters as Chase rolls his eyes. "Yup…you're hot."

"I don't feel sick…well I do but…not nauseous," Chase quickly corrects. "You promised bacon for breakfast right?"

"Bacon and waffles," House nods. "I did but you can't…not fair with two pouts in a row," House remarks lightly as Chase's face relaxes. "Rest as long as you want."

"I'll be resting all day and tomorrow…" his voice ends with an anxious note as he moves himself into the wheelchair and looks up with a flushed face. "I start learning to walk again."

"Hmm my duckling is learning to walk…better pull out my child security gate so he doesn't walk where he shouldn't," House grins as Chase can't help but smile at the joke he helped set up. "Should I cover up all the electrical outlets also?"

"I do shave you know," Chase reminds him as they slowly leave his bedroom.

"And soon you'll be driving. That's a scary thought," House muses whimsically as they enter the kitchen.

The weather was once again grey and drizzly but the mood was light inside the apartment as House did his best to keep the conversation steered away from anything that might dare to include Rowan's name. However, House can't help but know inside that Chase's misery over his father hadn't completely dissipated for good – that would take a few more days at least and that would be barring any further visible for verbal reminders of what the cruel hand that Rowan Chase had dealt his son.

As House watches the younger man's actions as he tries to flip the first waffle he wonders what it would have been like to have a son of his own; the younger man turning to him for approval and House instantly giving it.

"Shall I add professional chef to my resume?"

"Only if you're planning to look for a new job…which I won't allow."

"Better chef than maid."

"Oh you didn't even try the apron," House lightly growls as Chase nods. The two of them work at breakfast, Chase having to admit that the waffles were very tasty but his fluish demeanour not enjoying it as fully as he would have wanted. But he manages to eat all his bacon, saying it was an actual crime in other countries to waste bacon and of course finishing his coffee.

After breakfast and the kitchen is cleaned, the two of them head into the living room where they take turns reading amusing headlines; a short time later Chase drifting off into a nap and House pulling out his book to read and let him sleep as much as he wanted; knowing Chase wasn't about to let a small cold stop him from entering rehab tomorrow.

About two hours later, Chase starts to stir and tries to open his eyes, offering a small chuckle when he realizes the blindfold is back over his eyes. He lifts one eye and looks up at House in amusement.

"You're a sound sleeper," House merely comments in return as he remains in his chair; Chase on the couch.

"I ate a big breakfast," Chase admits as he pulls the black satin mask over his eyes and pretends to snore.

"And you don't snore," House reminds him as Chase's lips turn down. "Fake pout."

Chase lifts the mask off his face and then looks out the window at the rain pelting the window and then up at House. "Do you have an umbrella I can use?"

"Shower cap?" House retorts.

"Am not going out wearing a shower cap, besides it's not my hair I'm worried about."

"But you have nice hair…or you did."

"What's wrong with my hair?" Chase queries.

"There's not enough of it," House nods matter-of-factly as Chase smirks. "You can't play Rapunzel very well."

"Modern day Rapunzel? Maybe she wanted a pixie?"

"Pixie?"

"It's a hairstyle."

"Sounds complicated," House simply answers as Chase rolls onto his side and reaches for the remote. "What show is this?"

"Some medical drama."

"They're all fake. What kind of doctor knows everything…oh wait…I do," House comments as Chase rolls his eyes and laughs. The two of them engage in some friendly banter over the TV show for a bit longer before the channel is changed and the silly commentary starts up again; each of them taking turns pretending to be a commentator for some lame sporting event.

But as the dinner time nears, Chase feels his anxiety starting to build as he lingers in his room and looks at his closet; wondering what he'd wear tomorrow and how his first day of physio would be. He had told himself and would remind himself again that Bruno was there to help him and that his anxiety and frustration would be directed at himself. He knows the process will be slow but he wasn't quite prepared for just how slow and painful the first few weeks would prove to be.

"Hold still…" House grumbles sometime after supper as he tries to pull some sticky gum out of the back of Chase's short locks. "How on earth did you get gum in your hair young man?"

Chase's lips purse at the fatherly scold and feels himself frown before sighing heavily. "It was on the shelf and I leaned back…is it all out yet. Ouch!"

"I said hold still," House lightly snaps as he reaches for a small pair of scissors; Chase's eye widening as he sees the object out of the right of his eye. "Trust me you'll be hot when I'm done."

"What are…House!" Chase huffs as he tries to jerk his head free, looking up at House who merely smiles down in return.

"I cut nothing – yet. Now don't move or you'll end up looking like a Marine."

Chase remains very still; thankful that when House is finished he spies only a few small clumps taken out with the gum, his fingers feeling this back of his head to make sure he didn't have a bald spot.

"I have a hat you can borrow."

"Shower cap?" Chase asks weakly as House cleans up the sticky mess and then looks at back down Chase.

"Should I ground you?" He teases as Chase looks up in amusement. "Go easy on Bruno tomorrow."

"Am starting to feel nervous now," Chase admits in truth as they leave the bathroom. "At first I was happy Bruno was helping me but now I'm wondering if I'll ruin our friendship."

"Remember tomorrow he's there as a professional…not your friend. He's allowed to be in charge and firm."

"I know," Chase resigns with a small sniffle as he reaches for a nearby Kleenex. "Damn cold."

"Time for bed now," House directs in a warm but firm tone; Chase all too happy to comply and his mind taking some comforting delight in House's fatherly affection and caring concern.

XXXXXXXX

As suspected Chase's night wasn't as restful as he had wanted; his mind a mix of silly things that House had teased him about and then watching himself fall each time he tried to walk on his own and everyone around him laughing; his father's mocking voice telling him he'd never be useful again.

"Rough night?" House enters the kitchen early Monday morning as Chase was just about to pour them each a cup. "Did it involve shackles?"

"It did," Chase groans as he hands him a cup. "Not sure I should be even having coffee when I'm this nervous," he comments as he takes a small sip and then places the steaming cup on the counter; House looking down in concern.

"Did Bruno give you a schedule?"

"He emailed it to me last night. I know this first week will be lighter stuff but…but I just want to walk already and that anxious feeling…"

"Is making you agitated and irritable," House correctly guesses as Chase nods. "Just remember to play nice with the other children at recess. Now close your eyes."

"Again?"

"I'm not using the blindfold am I? Now close them."

"Okay," Chase resigns as he closes his eyes, his ears picking up House opening the fridge and his brow gently furrowing. "What is…this?" Chase wonders as he feels House place a cool object in his hands and then slowly opens his eyes to look at the tin lunchbox in his hands. "Really?"

"A nutritious lunch and some extra spending money," House nods as Chase opens the lids and stares at the contents in wonder; a contented smile adorning his lips. Sandwich, chips, drink, cookie and an apple. A red apple. And…

"Rubber ducky?" Chase pulls out the silly little toy. "Really? He's coming too?"

"He'll be lonely all day without you," House answers seriously as Chase gives the small toy a brief hand squeeze and tucks him back into his lunch box. Feeling too nervous to actually eat any food, Chase sips his coffee and waits for House to finish his breakfast before both clean up; House giving Chase the umbrella for later as he prepares to leave.

"Drop by when you're done," House tells Chase as he heads for the front door.

"I will," Chase nods as House takes his leave, needing to get his day started a bit earlier than Chase but wanting to be ready to go at the same time he was at the end of the day. Chase had purposely asked for the later afternoon session as that way he and House could ride the handicapped bus home together and talk about the day's events. Finally Chase gathers up his stuff, offering a warm smile to the packed lunch box that he retrieves from the fridge and heads for the front door; wondering when House stopped to buy the lunchbox with the superman logo on the front.

"Afternoon Dr. Chase. Wet enough for you?"

"Not too bad Charlie and I even remembered my umbrella today," Chase answers the friendly bus driver as he heads for his usual spot, turns around and locks the wheels in place for the ride to the hospital. The casual banter had helped to alleviate some if his stress but when the bus comes to a complete stop and he looks at the looming entrance of the familiar building, his anxiety soars instantly.

"Dr. Chase?"

"Right…thank you for the ride," Chase replies with a small smile. "See you later."

"I'll be here."

Chase heads for the front door, his lunchbox carefully stowed beneath the chair seat so at least it wasn't getting wet. However, it was getting tiring wheeling with just one hand and holding the umbrella so he gives up as he nears the entrance and enters PPTH a little wetter than anticipated.

But he shakes it off and heads for the elevators to go down to the physio section, his heart rate already starting to gain momentum as he nears the entrance to Bruno's lair.

"Hey morning Dr. Chase," Bruno greets him with a friendly smile.

"Morning. I got a bit…wet," Chase replies with a small frown.

"That's okay. Those shoes are coming off anyways," Bruno informs him as he nears. "You're here a bit early though…"

"I brought lunch. Wasn't hungry earlier."

"Okay that's cool. You wanna eat in our staff room? Not much in there but a TV and some lame women's magazines," Bruno lightly chuckles.

"The TV will be fine," Chase answers with a relaxed smile as he feels his anxiety starting to settle thanks to Bruno's friendly demeanour. He pulls away from Bruno and lets him finish up with his other client and enters the lunchroom, wheeling up to the table and pulling out his lunchbox.

_'Have you entered the dragon's lair yet?' _

Chase pulls his phone and reads the text from House with a small smirk as he prepares to text back.

_'Rubber ducky and I have just landed. All seems okay so far.'_

_'Keep an eye on Carl. I think he's a spy.'_

Chase offers a brief but audible chuckle at the poor physio tech that's inadvertently on the receiving end of House's lame jokes; the middle aged man appearing to be the furthest thing from anything suspicious.

_'Rubber ducky is up to the task.'_

_'Aye aye capt'n over and out.'_

Chase puts his phone away and opens his lunchbox and carefully picks away at the food. It was tasty but he knows his stomach was quietly rebelling over the exercises he'd be attempting in about thirty minutes under Bruno's direction. _Remember you can't just get up and walk yet…you hafta work up that strength! _

"Okay…we can do this," he tells the ducky in a firm tone just as Bruno enters.

"No way you brought him with you?" Bruno grins. "He can be like our mascot or something."

"House packed him," Chase utters in a fresh nervous tone.

"Ah that's very cool. Okay you ready?"

"I think I am."

"Nervous? Cuz you don't hafta be nervous."

"Somewhat nervous," Chase admits in truth as they slowly leave the small staff lunchroom and reenter the quiet physio room; Noel/Carl working quietly in the corner with another patient.

"Hello Carl," Chase calls out.

"I thought your name was Noel?" The patient asks Noel as he looks at Chase and frowns before he mutters that his real name is Noel and that's what he wanted to be called and to ignore everyone else. The patient still thought it strange.

"Okay you got the schedule right?" Bruno asks Chase after he had helped him get out of his own personal wheelchair and onto one of the regular chairs in the room.

"I did," Chase replies as he looks around to see who else was watching; Bruno having removed both runners and set them aside. "I did and am ready," Chase stammers as he turns back with a hint of anxiety in his expression.

"No need to be nervous. I won't hurt you, I promise."

"I know you won't…it's just that…"

"You haven't walked in a few weeks and it's odd to be the patient instead of the doctor?"

"Yes…that," Chase gently grumbles as Bruno kneels on the mat before his chair.

"And you got the at home schedule that Dr. House can help you with right? It'll help speed things up a bit."

"Speed is good and that…ahh…"

"Does that hurt?" Bruno quickly stops with Chase's half bent leg in his firm but skilled grasp.

"No…" Chase instantly shakes his head; his hands gripping the side of the chair seat firmly. "Just feels…"

"Ah tingly right? This is to help stimulate walking."

"Okay," Chase replies nervously as Bruno pushes his right leg up and then gently pulls it back.

"But if it does hurt you tell me okay?"

"Okay," Chase repeats as he watches in fascination. His brain…he tells his legs to move…to pull away from Bruno's grasp but they won't. _This is a weird experience, _his brain ponders as Bruno finally allows his right leg to rest and then moves on to the left.

"You're quiet Dr. Chase…you can talk you know," Bruno remarks in a friendly tone as Chase looks up in surprise.

"Right…sorry…I was just…it's very odd to see you moving my legs when my brain tells them to move but…they won't," he concludes with a small frown.

"It'll come," Bruno assures him kindly. "We still good with this?"

"We are," Chase answers in truth.

After the set was done Bruno lets both legs rest before he starts again, telling Chase that by the end of the week he'd help him stand and try to take baby steps with his aid. Next week they'd work on his upper body, using weights to strengthen his arms so that by the time it came to him using the walking beams his heart would be able to take the heavy exertion.

"Ready for set two?"

"I am," Chase replies a bit stiffly.

"Dr. Chase if this is…"

"It's not you Bruno…you have been pretty wonderful so far but as I look around…its hard to see people doing so naturally what I took for granted – walking."

"Humbling right?" Bruno lightly sighs.

"Very," Chase admits as he leans back in his chair. He looks back to see Bruno watching him in wonder, prompting him to sit straight and get ready for the second set.

"We gotta work these leg muscles because they…" his voice trails off as Chase tries to listen; his brain yelling at him to shelve his misery and that he should be thankful he was on the road to recovery.

Bruno then positions Chase's legs at a bent position on the chair and starts to push them up a bit higher; wanting to work his thigh muscles also. "Kinda stiff…"

"Nervous."

"Ah don't be nervous Dr. Chase," Bruno smiles. "I'm only here to help. But if it hurts…"

"No…no it doesn't hurt," Chase assures him in haste.

"Think your cheering section is happy with the progress?" Bruno nods to the little ducky watching from the other chair.

Chase looks over and can't help but smirk; neither of them realizing that they had an unseen audience watching in interest. House's eyes fix on Chase a bit longer as he watches the younger man in concern. He notices Chase's knuckles nearly white as he hangs onto the chair and knows it's his nerves taking hold rather than Bruno's gentle actions and that he'd have to have something fun prepared to distract his mind after all this was over for the day.

"Poor duckling," he whispers as he then looks at the chair with the rubber ducky watching and can't help but crack a small smirk before he pulls away and heads back to his office to see what new trouble his team had gotten into.

"I can't do…it…" Chase lightly snaps as his legs limply falls back into Bruno's waiting grasp. He had finished the chair exercises and was now lying on the floor on a mat with Bruno trying to get him to see if he could hold his leg up in the air; even a few inches off the ground for a few seconds.

"It'll come Dr. Chase, don't worry," Bruno tells him in a kind tone; Chase frowning in remorse at his rather curt words. "You haven't had to use these muscles for a few weeks."

"Atrophy," Chase utters in a glum tone to which Bruno nods in agreement.

"But we're gonna keep trying right?"

"Right," Chase nods as he looks up at Bruno as Bruno takes his left foot and lifts his leg into the air and holds it; Chase's left thigh trembling when Bruno lets go; as predicted the limb falling back to the ground in a few seconds.

"It'll come…" Bruno nods as he transfers back to Chase's right leg. He repeats the same activity a few more times for each leg; making casual chatter about things in general until it was time to switch to another activity and then the discussion would switch to that.

"So I scared you away yet?"

"I'll be back tomorrow," Chase firmly promises as he bends down to pull on his runners, not expecting Bruno to help him with every single detail. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Bruno smiles. He could have added that he was just doing his job, but this was a friend he was helping and so was giving the kind doctor a bit more personal attention that he would a total stranger; his kind attitude something Chase cherishes.

Chase finally takes his leave, his body tired but in a good way. About half hour into the session, his anxiety had faded in favor of him trying to focus all his energy and attention on trying to get his legs to work. The tingling sensations were odd but welcomed and he hopes by the end of the week, he'll have enough strength in his legs to be able to hold his foot in the air for at least half a minute. However the frustration toward his own inability to do something so standard was still festering.

"Shall I even ask what you're doing?" Chase asks as he enters the doorway to House's office only to see House bent under his desk looking for something.

"No."

"Ok-ay…what are you missing?"

"My Twister mat," House pops his head up to answer Chase and then ducks back down.

"Any suspects?"

"Wilson," House looks at him and then disappears again.

"Why?"

"Why does Wilson do anything?" House grumbles as he pops up for the last time and then eases himself back into his leather office chair. "I don't see any training wheels," he quips as Chase nears him.

"It went okay. Am tired but Bruno did all the work," he mentions with a soft smile.

"We'll look at training wheels by the end of the week," House smiles as his phone buzzes to life.

"I see some things never change."

"No one can do anything without me," House groans as he gets up and reaches for his cane.

"Shall I hold the bus?"

"Won't be longer than ten minutes," House promises as he reaches for his jacket. "I just have to tell someone to go to hell and I'll be down in no time."

"Okay," Chase calls out as House hurries from his office. With his lunchbox and umbrella stowed under the seat of his wheelchair, Chase heads for the elevator and then the main entrance; wanting nothing more than to get home and literally put his feet up and rest.

_'Remember if you can get Dr. House to help you with these it'll help speed up the recovery process,' _Bruno's words echo in his head as he nears the handicapped bus stop.

"Hello Charlie. Are you able to wait for Dr. House for about five more minutes?"

"Sure thing Dr. Chase. It'll give me time to run in and get my paper. Is it okay if I leave it running? The stand is just right there."

"I'll hold down the fort," Chase states with a serious expression before his face softens. He slowly heads onto the bus and then turns around and wheels back into position. He pulls his phone, telling himself he'd have some time to put in the rest of the schedule for the week for his therapy with Bruno.

_I have to do something nice for Bruno for all that he's helped me with…._his mind ponders. But it's not until he hears a firm throat clear that he looks up to see three gruff looking punks staring at him in suspicion.

"Ah this isn't the city bus," Chase states the obvious.

"You all alone here?" One of them asks gruffly as he nears.

Chase's fingers quickly close the calendar feature and try to dial 9-1-1 but one of the punks grabs the phone while the other grabs Chase's wrists and tries to keep him from fighting back.

"Hey stop him from calling the cops!"

"Get his wallet!"

"Here comes the driver!"

"Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Give that…back!" Chase snaps as he feels a sudden jerk. Then much to his shock and horror the bus starts to pull away from the curb with him still in it; one of the punks at the seat, closing the door and applying the gas.

"Stop the bus!" Chase shouts in vain as he tries to pull himself free.

XXXXXXXX

At the same time, about five minutes later House comes strolling out of the entrance to PPTH, stopping short at not seeing the bus and watching in wonder as Charlie rushes up to him with a wide-eyed panicked look.

"No I don't have an umbrella."

"Three…punks…they just pushed past me…and…stole the bus! I need your phone mine was on the bus!" Charlie stammers out of breath.

"We can always take a cab home," House replies without much sense of urgency as he hands the older man his phone.

"Dr. Chase was on the bus when it was stolen!"

"What?"

* * *

**A/N: **now I have heard it said that doctors make the worst patients so am gonna build on that a bit more but can't leave it on number 13 right? Lol maybe one or two more chapters? is that okay? I just found a few more plot nuggets to add and hope that's okay. But since I don't want you all to get bored I thought I'd interject another danger scenario for our dear little duckling. Yes? No? please do review before you go and thanks so much!

**PS:** I'm gonna put this note on all my updates until I know fanfic is working properly for all of us. The alert system is working for some not others. So for my Chicago Fire readers I just updated Zero Degrees. (also if you think a story has been updated but don't see an update in your inbox please check my profile - they are always updated there for sure). thanks everyone!


	14. Worry is a Game Three People Play

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 14 – Worry is a Game Three People Play**

**A/N: **Thanks so much to everyone for their amazing feedback on this story so far – it's what's keeping me going and extending it more and more. And remember the theme to this story is the House/Chase father/son growing relationship so everything that happens to them is to help grow that bond between them. So yes poor duckling but I wanted a tense situation for House to face now that they are living together and now that he's emotionally invested in Chase more than when the stabbing first took place. So hope you can all see and appreciate that also please enjoy the update!

* * *

"Let…go…" Chase growls as he tries to pull his hands free; his heart rate soaring. "Stop this bus!"

"Shut up!" One of them yells down at Chase.

Chase didn't fancy himself much of a street fighter and often joked that even the girls had more kick ass prowess than him but at least if he had the use of his legs he could have offered more of a fighting chance. Now he was stuck and at their mercy and for the first time genuinely afraid, not really of them but of something happening to the bus and him trapped inside and unable to get out. Plus to make matters worse, the way they were acting and the somewhat dazed and confused expressions were all signaling to him, which would be confirmed later, they were high and he was in trouble.

"Where the hell are you going man?" One of the punks asks in agitation.

"Norm's!" The driver, Lou, snaps back at Reggie, the punk holding Chase's right wrist. "Get up here and help me figure out where the hell I am!"

"Hold him Mike!" Reggie hands Chase's other wrist so that now the third punk was holding Chase's wrists above his head; easily tiring him out.

"This is a very bad idea guys," Chase tries to reason as he tries in vain to pull his arms down, wanting to just rest them on his lap. Without his phone he could do little else but be a captive spectator; merely praying for the bus to come to a safe landing and them to just leave him alone and take their leave. That wasn't to be.

"He won't stop pulling."

"Then let go!" Chase argues back. "I can't go anywhere."

"Here…use this," Reggie hurries back to Mike with a roll of thick black electrical tape they'd found on floor at the front. Chase's panic seizes as Mike holds down his left wrist and Reggie starts to bind his wrist to the handlebar of the wheel chair, effectively restraining him.

"Don't worry about his legs they don't work!" Mike bellows as Chase feels his confidence instantly plummet. But his mind urges him to keep trying to reason with them to just let him be. It wouldn't work.

"Kidnapping is a federal off…" is all he manages before a piece of the thick sticky tape is ripped free and pushed firmly over his mouth to keep him quiet.

"Told you to shut up!" Mike snarls as he goes to work on Chase's other wrist, having him within seconds bound into his wheelchair and then left to helplessly ponder his fate. "Man my head is pounding! Damn I need…careful with the turns!"

"I'm not turning! You're still high!"

Chase watches the other two hurry to the front of the speeding handicapped bus and starts to pull at his wrists; his heart now beating painfully in his chest and his body dampening further with heavier droplets of nervous sweat hidden beneath his black sweatshirt and hoodie.

"We gotta dump this damn thing man!" Reggie growls at Lou as they near a seedier part of town.

"What do we do with the cripple when we land?" Mike turns and looks back at Chase's uncertain expression.

"Bring him with us. Maybe he'll want a little shot of something good also," Lou offers an evil sneer as he looks up and locks eyes with his captive passenger.

"I know I need another hit man…drive faster!"

"Okay!"

XXXXXXXX

"Chase was on the bus?" House angrily bellows as Wilson exits the building and heads toward him. "What do you mean he was on the bus when it was stolen? Alone? You just left him there to fend for himself? He can't fend for himself…very well," House groans.

"I had to get a paper and…" Charlie's voice trails off as he hurries up to the PPTH security guard asking where the police were.

"Missed the bus?" Wilson queries with a chipper tone. But when House turns around with an angry glare, Wilson stops in his tracks and looks in wonder. "What?"

"The bus was carjacked with Chase still inside!"

"Ok-ay that's bad. But the police are on it right?"

"Not the point."

"He's going to be okay," Wilson tries to calm down his irate best friend. But inside, his anxiety was now starting to soar at the thought of Chase at the mercy of three men who might not care about treating someone with a handicap with any care at all. Would this now be a new setback?

"Where's your car?"

"You want to follow them? You don't even know…"

"WHERE!" House demands and then quickly takes a deep breath. "The cops will get there before the medics and he might need treatment…or something," House's eyes plead with Wilson; Wilson looking at House, mentally wanting to say no but verbally not able to.

"Do we even know where we are going?" Wilson groans as they turn and hurry for Wilson's car; House texting Charlie to keep him updated on the route the police are tracking the bus. "Last time you had me follow a hapless nurse and today I'm following a stolen bus."

"And for that you get a gold star. Now move!"

"He will be fine," Wilson tries to reassure House; despite the fact that his concern was also growing for the younger man now caught in a very terrifying situation.

"He better be," House replies in a lower tone. "I just might get to hit someone with my cane after all."

"This time I just might let you," Wilson utters in sarcasm.

XXXXXXXX

"We gotta get rid of this damn thing and get out before the cops come!" Mike's angry voice bellows as he walks back to Chase and looks down with an angry sneer; Chase looking up for a few seconds and then back down. "You enjoying the ride gimp?"

Chase keeps his eyes fixed firmly ahead but inside he'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared or at least nervous that the cops would arrive in time or before he was force fed a needle full of drugs. _House…I could use some of that genius right now, _his mind laments in sorrow as he tries once more to find some give in the thick sticky tape keeping his wrists bound the arms of his wheelchair.

"Hey Reggie didn't you park your van over here somewhere?"

"Yeah man turn left here!"

But Chase's panic starts to skyrocket even further as the bus comes to a screeching halt outside a rundown building, inches from a thick pole; the brakes are unlocked and he starts to be moved out against his will.

"Come join the party cripple…trust me it'll be fun!" Reggie snickers as he pulls up Chase's hood and pushes him toward the front, Chase's anxiety making his stomach want to toss out anything he had eaten earlier. The wheelchair clangs with the side of the bus front door, dislodging the metal lunchbox and sending it sailing to the ground and opening with a small clatter; at the mercy of the mud and rain.

Chase can only watch as they near the back door to the darkened building and he's pushed into the darkened lair; his frame literally seizing as he hears the door behind him being barricaded with something metal. His fingers curl around the ends of the wheelchair handles as Reggie turns sharply threatening to tip him over; something he's done himself and doesn't want to experience again.

"Into the second building!" Lou directs as the three of them hurry along, Chase unable to do anything but close his eyes and pray his stomach keeps the small bits of food down as he knows with the sticky tape gag in place he can't spit anything out.

_Where the hell am I going? To hell…_Chase's mind spirals with panic as they enter a second building, much smaller than the first; his eyes widening as he looks at a waiting van and feels his body instantly starting to rebel.

"Ah you'll like this joy ride a lot better!" Mike slaps Chase on the back as the three of them laugh at his helpless expense.

Chase can only watch in misery as he's pushed into the back of the darkened van as Lou hops into the front, the doors are slammed shut and the van peels away. _This can't be happening…_Chase's mind growls as he tries to move his wrists in the hopes of loosening the sticky tape at least away from the metal handle of the wheelchair; the stubborn adhesive greedily clinging to the dark fabric of his hoodie.

"Now where are we going man?" Reggie asks as he gets into the front seat beside Lou, Mike in the back with Chase.

"Still to Norm's. He'll give us shelter and some of the good stuff."

"Perfect. I'm starting to need something now. And I mean like right now!"

_Damn…they are all high! _Chase's mind groans as he looks at Mike with a small frown; earning only a small sneer in return. _How's House going to find me now?_

XXXXXXXX

"They found the bus! Turn here!" House states suddenly, forcing Wilson to turn to the left and then slow as they near a narrow alleyway; House's mind racing in anxiety that his beloved duckling was with three less then reputable hooligans who might not treat him with delicate care.

"I don't see Chase!"

"Calm down and l…" is all Wilson manages as House hops out of the car, literally at the same moment it comes to a stop and heads toward one of the uniformed officers.

"Where is Dr. Robert Chase?" House asks in haste as the officer looks at him in wonder.

"Who?"

"The passenger on the bus when it…" House's voice dies out as he looks at the scattered lunchbox on the ground and then back at the officer with a narrowed gaze. "That's his lunchbox."

"Hey you can't just…who is this guy?" The officer's voice bellows as House pulls away from him, ducks under the yellow tape and leaves Wilson to try to smooth things over.

"He's worried about the rubber ducky," Wilson mentions weakly as the officer looks at him with an unimpressed expression.

"What's his issue? That a relative on the bus?"

"Sort of," Wilson answers with a small frown as he looks at House as House gathers the muddy contents, muttering angrily to himself about hapless officers standing around doing nothing. "Do you know where they are?"

"The officers are searching the area right now but we think there might have been another car waiting that they used or maybe your friend even used it? Maybe he was in on it?"

"Okay but here's the thing our friend Robert was in a wheelchair."

"Maybe they took him with them?"

"Then there would have been a van waiting and he has a car," Wilson retorts, earning a small glare from the annoyed officer.

"Who are you anyways?"

"Dr. James Wilson from Princeton Plains…it doesn't matter who I am," Wilson groans as House walks back up to them.

"Where is Chase?"

"Who?" The officer looks from Wilson to House in wonder.

"The person this belongs to!" House growls as he holds up the muddied duckie as the offers him an incredulous glare. "Well he didn't just run away."

"If you'll just…" the officer's voice pauses as his radio cracks to life. "Go."

_"Wally…just checked the first building. It's empty. But we found footprints and what looks like bike tracks…"_

"They're wheelchair tracks," the officer adds in haste.

_"Right well we found them all heading into a second building. We're heading there now."_

"So maybe your friend was in on this?"

"Chase would never steal a bus!" House retorts in anger. "He would have fought back…if he could," House's voice trails off with a sour note as he gives Wilson a small defeated frown.

"He's going to be okay. They probably just took him to…"

"To what?" House lightly snaps as they pull away from the officer. "He wouldn't go willingly and you know it so that means…"

"He can't run away either so maybe they told him to just stay put and he wouldn't get hurt," Wilson replies in a low tone. "We will get him back."

"And what the hell will he have to endure before then?" House asks in anger as he looks back at the bus and then down at the dented lunchbox in his grasp.

"Okay…say again?" The officer asks in a loud tone, causing House and Wilson to lean in so they could hear.

_"The second building is clear but there was another vehicle waiting. If you say there was a wheelchair involved then my guess it was a van since there is no wheelchair left and the tracks end the same place the footprints do and then we have tire tracks leaving the opening."_

"Okay do we…wait a second," the officer pauses as he turns to look at House. "Your friend. He have a phone with him? If he does we can track it."

"He does. The number is…" House gives the officer Chase's cell number to trace and then steps back with Wilson. "What will he have to endure before we find him?"

XXXXXXXX

Chase's lips offer a muffled groan as the wheelchair rolls away from Mike's careless grasp and bangs into the side of the van wall; Mike grabbing it before it can completely topple over onto its side with him bound into it. His hands unable to pull away from the tape restraints and put the brakes on for some added peace of mind.

"Ever had drugs before?" Mike asks Chase as he pulls the wheelchair back.

Chase looks at him in wonder. _I'm gagged you moron, remember?_

"Can I ungag this guy or what?"

"Not yet. He'll just whine about us doing something against the law," Lou snorts as he briefly looks back at Chase with a narrowed gaze and then continues driving.

"Almost there…damn I'm getting…I need something man and fast," Reggie moans as he leans back in the front passenger seat.

"Told you to eat first!" Mike snaps.

"Well I forgot!" Reggie shouts back.

"Shut up both of you!" Lou growls in loud anger. "We're almost there."

_Then what? _Chase's mind races as he wonders if he is given hallucinogenic drugs how they'll interact with his heart medication and what damage they'd do to his recovery process. _House will find me…he'll figure out a way…_Chase tries to calm his nerves as he feels the erratic driving finally starting to slow.

Lou slams on the breaks, making the van stop suddenly and Chase's wheelchair to slam into the side of the van once again; none of the three punks offering any sympathy to their helpless captive and only giving him a few snickers when he gives his head a small shake but is thankful that other than a few short breaths doesn't suffer any further physical harm.

"Let's get this party started!" Mike offers with a loud gleeful tone as he stands up to open the back doors. He hops out, not realizing or really caring about Chase's phone as it falls out of his pocket and clatters under the van about a foot.

"Mmmph!" Chase's lips utter in vain as he lightly struggles in his wheelchair as it's pulled out of the back of the van. He frantically looks around for someone he might be able to get the attention of but with his hands unable to push the hoodie away from his face and draw attention to the tape over his mouth, it's a losing battle.

"Ah trust me cripple you'll have fun too!" Reggie chuckles as he slaps Chase on the back as they near the entrance to a rundown apartment building; not the one closest to the vacant van.

Chase's anxiety continues to skyrocket as he's pushed toward a rickety elevator, facing the wall and the three filing in behind him. His throat tries to swallow but feels his panic rising with the elevator. What or who was waiting on top and would they just take pity on him and let him go? He'd know his fate soon enough.

The elevator jerks to a stop; Chase's stomach lurching at the same time and his fingers once again tightly curling around the ends of the wheelchair handle. Mike pulls him out of the quiet elevator, the four of them entering a musty hallway and slowly heading down toward the end.

_Does anyone live here? _Chase's mind wonders about the ghostly silence. But his stomach tightens further as they stop at the last door and Lou offers a firm knock. Chase can only look up in wonder as the door is pulled open and an angry set of eyes looks down in wonder.

"What are you guys doing here? And who the hell is this?" Norm growls as he looks up from Chase's pitiful appearance to his three hapless captors.

"We need something Norm…please," Lou begs as he pulls a wad of cash from his low slung back pocket.

"Okay let me try this again…who the hell is this?" Norm glares at Lou.

"He was on the bus."

"He's along for the ride," Reggie's hand clamps down on Chase's shoulder as they speak at the same time.

"What…bus? You moron's stole a city bus?" Norm half yells.

"No…man keep it down. It was a handicapped bus and he was on it so he came with us?"

"Willingly?"

"That's why he's tied up! Look he was on the damn cripple bus when we took it and he stayed with us," Lou huffs, desperate to get his next hit. "We didn't have time to drop him off or push him out."

"Is that so?"

"Mmm nnnph!" Chase furiously shakes his head in disagreement; his fists trying to pull away to show that he wasn't in favor of his current predicament.

"You kidnapped a cripple from a cripple bus and brought him here?" Norm half shouts. "Morons!"

"Look we ditched the bus and took a van. The cops won't care."

"And this guy? Anyone care where he is?"

"No."

"Mmm hmmm!" Chase nods.

"So far only he is making me listen. Someone better…"

"We just need a hit…we have money and we'll return him safe and sound to the cripple bus later. He'll be okay here with us," Mike snickers as his other hand clamps down on Chase's other shoulder. "'sides I think he could use a hit. He looks a little rough."

"Come on…we promise we'll all be on our best behaviour!" Lou lightly begs in desperation.

"Fine…bring him in. But if this goes south I'm putting all your asses on the line for this and pleading ignorance!"

Chase looks up with a pleading expression that is instantly lost on the man before him; his heart sinking once more as he's wheeled into the room and the door is closed behind him.

"You all have the cash up front right?"

"Course!" Mike agrees as he pulls a wad from his cargo pants. "I even have enough for the cripple here."

"Fair enough."

"Wait here."

"Okay so time to make you…a bit more ready for the party," Mike states as he pulls a knife and flips the blade up. "Ready for some real fun?"

XXXXXXXX

"What is taking them so long?" House snaps in annoyance as he looks at Officer Wally with a heavy frown. "I don't think he likes me."

"Really? Seemed like he was ready to ask you for tea," Wilson retorts in sarcasm.

"Smart ass."

"On purpose. They know you're worried and…"

"They don't care about Chase like I do," House huffs in a quieter tone as he looks back at the bus that had come to stop just in front of a telephone pole. "To them it's just another day on the job…just another person missing…another…"

"Robert will be fine. He's a strong guy who…"

"Can't exactly run away can he? He's counted on me to keep him safe and…what?" House stops mid-sentence to ask about Wilson's inquiring expression.

"You've moved into the role of would-be father pretty easily."

"And?"

"And it's…great. For you both," Wilson adds with a small smile.

"Well some would-be father…I let my son be kidnapped on his way home from his first day at school by a bunch of hooligans…" House's voice trails off as Wilson offers him a small chuckle. "He just started rehab today and…"

"Hey we're not that far behind okay? They'll trace his phone and we will get him back and he'll be back where he belongs tomorrow."

"This is all my fault," House huffs before he turns to head back toward Officer Wally.

"How's that?" Wilson calls after him.

"I should have grounded him," House retorts, earning an amused expression behind his back from Wilson. House's mind races with what his beloved helpless duckling could be facing right now. He would only admit to Wilson alone that his caring concern for Robert Chase had grown exponentially since the stabbing and that his inner feelings where a lot stronger than even he had even anticipated. Before it would have been mere concern for the wellfare of a friend and collegue. But now it was more...something inside was stirring, it was fatherly affection and he was stomach sick at the fact that Chase was alone, helpless and probably counting on him to get him out of there. _I have to find him and fast...damn I hate this._

XXXXXXXX

Chase could only grumble in anger as his sleeve was cut away; his wrist still firmly bound to the arm of the wheelchair. Mike tosses away the fabric remnants and then produces a thick elastic strand to wrap around his arm and get his vein ready.

"Mmmmph!" Chase tries to struggle as the elastic rubber is wrapped around his taut arm and cinched tightly. _House…anytime now…please…anytime…_

"Trust me you'll like this," Mike grins as he pats Chase's scuffed cheek; both of them watching as Norm returns with a small tray.

"He gets his first if you still wanna go that route," Norm hands Mike the needle.

"Yeah otherwise I might poke you in the eye or something," Mike chuckles as he grabs the needle and then nears Chase; Chase's frantic eyes looking at Norm and then up at Mike; pleading with him by whispered muffles and a firm head shake that he didn't want the drugs.

"Trust me man…after this you'll think you can walk again," Mike grins as he readies the needle.

_House! _Chase's mind yells in a panic as the need point nears his arm. But his mind can only seize with panic as the tip punctures his skin, enters the vein and the contents are pushed all the way into the bloodstream; his entire frame bracing for impact.

"Hey Mikey I think he likes it," Reggie chuckles as Chase squeezes his eyes shut and prays that House would be there soon.

A few seconds later Chase opens his watery eyes, watching as the other three moron's who had hijacked his bus on a high and kidnapped him along for the ride, take their own dose of the potent substance; Norm heading into the other room with a wad of fresh cash in his fist.

_'Robert!' _Chase lifts his head to see his father walking toward him in a fog.

_'Father…what are you doing here?' _He hears himself asking; his brain yelling at him that he was still gagged and his father not there.

_'I've come to take you home Robert. Don't you want to go home? Isn't that what you've always wanted?'_

_'Yes. Will we be a family now?'_

_'Yes. Isn't that what you've always wanted?'_

Chase's core temperature enflames further; heavy droplets of sweat soaking his brow and the back of his neck, slowly sliding down his spine beneath the thick folds of the sweatshirt and hoodie; his stomach enflamed and wanting to throw up.

_'Hurry Robert, why are you stalling?'_

_'I can't walk father.'_

_'Always an excuse with you!'_

Chase gives his head a shake, his mind racing with distorted thoughts – some happy…some sad…some downright scary.

_'Father…let me out of these restraints!' _He now pictures himself strapped down to a hospital bed. But his father's face is quickly replaced with House's who looks down with an evil grin.

_'So you used me just to earn the pity vote. Well I can fix that! How about you lose those legs for good?'_

NOOOOOOOOOO! Chase's mind yells as his body buckles in place, his chest and lungs heaving, eyes stinging and tired heart nearing its critical point. _Help me…someone…help me…._his mind calls out as he once again spirals into darkness.

XXXXXXXX

"Okay remember don't freak out when you find him," Wilson tries to tell House in a calm tone. The officers had finally gotten a trace on Chase's cell number, saying it had stopped in a rather unsightly part of town and was there for the past twenty minutes without moving.

"I don't freak out," House reminds Wilson pointedly. "Is he too old for a spanking?"

"He didn't ask for the bus to be stolen," Wilson retorts with a small chuckle to House's rhetorical question.

"Fine how about the hooligans that stole the bus with him on it?" House snaps as Wilson merely shakes his head. He brings his car to a stop a few meters behind the police officer's cruiser, waiting inside as instructed until the van was opened and then searched.

"Empty!" House hisses as he gets out and heads toward Wally.

"Found his phone," another officer hands Wally the phone, House quickly snatching it.

"It's not evidence," House hisses as Wally tries to take it back. "Where is he?"

"Well unless they are just having fun joyriding around, looks like they stopped…"

"I think I have an idea on where they went," another officer nears them with the news.

"Finally someone who's helpful," House states loudly, earning a narrowed gaze from Wally but not caring. "Where?"

"Who's this?" The other officer asks Wally.

"His kid was on the bus," Wally remarks dryly.

"Are the guys that stole the bus friends of his?"

"No," House snaps. "Where is he?"

"Who are you thinking? Norm Veneer?"

"Would make the most sense. This is usually his area to deal out of. Which building?"

"Second one. Not sure which floor but…"

"It's a place to start," House interjects as he pulls away.

"Someone bring him back," Wally calls out in annoyance as he reaches House; his sizeable frame blocking House's path. "As soon as we have secured the area then you can come and do whatever you have to do."

"I'm a doctor."

"Congratulations. I'm a cop. You wait here _doctor_," Wally tosses back dryly as he pulls his gun and then nods to his partner and the two other uniformed officers who hurry toward the darkened apartment.

"That wasn't helpful," Wilson states the obvious as he and House slowly follow after the last officer who would tell them when it was safe to enter.

_"Yeah we found his boy. Let him up, he can tend to him."_

House hears the statement and then looks at Wilson in concern before pulling away and hurrying as fast he could go toward the entrance to the rundown apartment; determined to pummel at least one of them with his cane, not caring if they were indeed high as Charlie had suspected or that he might be charged with assault.

House exits onto the fifth floor and his heart rate starts to rise as he heads down the dimly lit hallway; his ears picking up angry complaints and curses but none with the distinct accent his beloved duckling is known for. _He better be okay...why can't I hear him? Where is Robert?_

"Where's…" House tries in a loud tone as he enters the apartment just in time to see one of the officers gently pull the rubber tubing away from Chase's arm and then start to cut away the tape keeping his wrists restrained to the handlebars of the wheelchair; Chase's head still bowed.

"Robert…" House starts in a concerned tone as he nears Chase's mud-decorated wheelchair, his hand tucking under Chase's stubble clad chin and lifting his head upward; pushing the hood back. His heart instantly sinks as he looks at Chase's watery, glazed over eyes; his fingers gently pulling away the sticky tape from his mouth; his mind very much relieved that aside from a few scrapes and a cut hoodie nothing seemed out of place. That is until Chase spoke.

As soon as the tape is free, Chase's lips curl upward into a wide goofy grin.

"Hi...daddy…" he snickers with a slight slur before his head falls back down.

"Great…he's high," House groans just as Wilson appears in the doorway.

* * *

**A/N:** So I really hope you are all still enjoying this story and yeah I didn't want them to do Chase much physical harm besides a few scrapes and bruises from transportation but as it is House will have his hands full trying to deal with a high Chase and then of course him coming down off his high (which won't last that long and he'll be back with Bruno). Hehe so please do review before you go (you know they get you more chappies) and thanks so much!


	15. Playing Parent

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 15 – Playing Parent**

* * *

"House, are you sure…"

"Hi Uncle Wilson!" Chase greets with a wide grin as Wilson nears the same time Chase lifts his head.

"He's high," Wilson looks at House with a small smirk.

"This is funny?" House grumbles as he turns around to see one of the officers trying to cuff Reggie. "Who forced him the drugs?" House demands as Wally looks at him in wonder.

"I…did," Reggie grins and then frowns. "Hey chill out old man…your boy just wanted some FUN!" He leans forward and sneers as House nears.

"My boy doesn't need that kind of fun you moron!" House growls as he swats at Reggie with the end of his cane as Reggie's frame was threatening to fall forward onto House; House then shoving his cane into Reggie's stomach and sending him flailing backward.

"Hit him again _dad_!" Chase snickers as Officer Wally looks at Chase in exasperation.

"He's as lippy as his old man."

"Am too," Chase declares proudly.

"Yeah not helping," Wilson whispers to Chase who looks up with a frown. "Officer…"

"Richard Wallace," Wally looks directly at Wilson.

"Dick…" Chase starts to laugh, Wilson's hand quickly clamping down over his mouth. "...ick…allace…" Chase laughs through the hand as Wilson offers a look of remorse.

"It's not important," Wilson huffs before he looks down at Chase. "Okay time to stop it now."

"And whose idea was it to steal the damn bus?" House voice demands angrily, looking at the other high hooligans.

"You mean the gimp bus," Lou snickers as House looks at him with a heavy frown. "It was mine! I'm an Indy car driver!" He boasts loudly as Wally looks at House with an unimpressed expression.

"Hey next time we'll take a semi!"

"Yeah!"

"Happy now?" Wally inquires as House glares at him. "I guess not. Alright let's get these guys into the tank downtown to dry out and then we'll process."

One of the officers tries to pull Lou's high and protesting frame toward the door; House sticking out the end of his cane and forcing Lou to stumble and fall back to the floor.

"Hey…he tripped me."

"Very mature. Take your kid and go," Wally huffs. "Believe it or not, my men and I are more than capable of taking it from here."

"That's a comfort," House retorts in sarcasm as Wilson merely purses his lips and offers Officer Wally a shrug. "Damn chair's got mud all over it."

"I like mud…" Chase babbles as he leans forward, his fingers wanting to grab a clump of mud on the spokes of his wheelchair, forcing House and Wilson to spring into action, each taking an arm and holding him back.

"Shoulda kept the damn tape on," House grumbles as Wilson snickers. "You think this is amusing?"

"Somewhat. Hey you can't fault Chase for this, he didn't take them willingly," Wilson explains as Chase looks up with a grin and nods. "See he agrees."

"You're mother is a turnip," House tells Chase who grins and nods as Wilson rolls his eyes "And he's your authority?" House quips as he swats Chase's hand back and then gestures for Wilson to take the reigns of the chair; it was time to get Chase home and cleaned up.

"Can I have a turnip?" Chase chuckles as he tries to reach out and grab the wall handle as they pass.

"Keep your hands in the chair Robert," House states firmly as Chase looks up in wonder.

"Do I like turnip? What's a turnip?" He laughs as Wilson offers a chuckle as they near the elevator; House looking at his best friend in exasperation.

"What? He's high. It is kinda funny you have to admit," Wilson replies as they both look down to see Chase trying to swat at something in the air.

"Want me to send him home with you?"

"I'm only the Uncle remember?" Wilson retorts. "You're the father…this is all a part of parenting," Wilson states seriously.

"I want a turnip," Chase's voice bellow as they enter the elevator to go down.

"You hate turnips," House snaps in frustration.

"I do. Why? I think I like turnips. What is a turnip?" Chase's voice rattles off as House merely shakes his head; but is unable to hold back a small smirk at Chase's one sided dissertation on whether he likes turnips or not. "My father hates me, he tried to cut off my legs," Chase suddenly utters as both Wilson and House trade frowns before looking down to see Chase looking up. "I saw you…you tried to cut off my legs. Why? They still work. I think," he frowns as he looks back down. "Do they work? That guy back there said they'd work now. Oh damn, look at my hoodie," Chase huffs as he holds up his cut sleeve; the three of them nearing Wilson's car.

"That thing folds up, right?" Wilson inquires as they near the back seat.

"Can we drive the van back?"

"I like the bus. Where is the bus? Who stole the damn bus!" Chase's voice bellows, making a few officers turn and look in wonder.

"He needs a nap. Pipe down Robert," House lightly scolds as Wilson pats House on the back.

"Have fun tonight."

"Oh no, I'm not dealing with this alone."

"Uh yes you are," Wilson replies firmly as they try to get Chase out of the dirty wheelchair and into the back of Wilson's car. "I have that group meeting tonight remember?"

"Will Mikey be at the meeting?" Chase suddenly asks. "He said I'd like it."

"You can't leave me alone with him," House ignores Chase's lame babble and looks at Wilson as Chase's weary frame flops down onto the backseat and doesn't move.

"He won't bite and am sure you'll be able to keep him in line once you get home."

"Dad, where's home? Can we take the bus? Where's the bus!" Chase huffs as he closes his eyes. But as soon as his mind didn't have a visual stimulation it starts to conjure up tormented nightmares once more. "I need my legs…no father I need my legs…don't take my legs…NO!" He shouts as his watery eyes snap open and he looks around, trying frantically to sit up. "I need to catch the bus."

"You know he's going to blow hot and cold right now on the high and then…."

"Get sick when he comes down off the high and the drugs will want some friends and he won't get anymore and then he'll be miserable. I know," House nods as he helps Wilson clean off the bottom of the wheelchair as best as he can before helping him get it into the trunk.

In the meantime, Chase had pushed the side passenger door open and was trying to crawl out the other side, muttering to himself about catching the bus.

"House," Wilson stands up and watches Chase's head and arms emerge from out the passenger side of the car. "Your son is trying to escape," he chuckles as House heads around to the passenger side and gives Chase's legs a yank backward. "Oh that's nice," Wilson mutters as he watches House pull Chase back into the belly of the car. "Isn't that child abuse?" Wilson chuckles.

"I want to catch the bus dad!" Chase's voice bellows as he tries to pull himself free; Wilson left to get the wheelchair into the backseat so they could leave already.

"Can't I just sedate him?" House grumbles as he tries to pull Chase upright; finally managing to push his arms down and then pin him in place at his sides with the seatbelt across his chest. "Stay."

"He's not a dog," Wilson groans.

"I can't move," Chase looks up at House with a heavy frown. "Are my arms broken now?"

"Yes."

"Damn. Are we going home then?" He asks with a glazed over grin.

"Yes," House replies with a small frown, his anger lessening the longer he gazes at the playful innocence in his drugged up ducklings watery blue eyes. "As long as you're a good boy on the way home you'll get Jell-O for supper."

"Jell-O!" Chase exclaims happy. "And a turnip?" He asks just as House closes the door and gets into the front passenger seat.

"I swear I'm going to dream of turnips tonight," Wilson laughs as he starts the car and finally pulls away; the three drugged up hooligans being loaded into the back of the police van; Norm no where to be found.

"You're enjoying this," House mutters in agitation as he turns around to see what Chase was up to; Chase looking at him with a smile before he looks back down to see why he couldn't move his arms.

"My arms are still broken," Chase grumbles as his head lolls back onto the seat rest.

"Oh come on you have to admit this is kinda funny," Wilson retorts.

"It's frustrating."

"Trust me this is the lesser of all evils," Wilson replies in truth. "You saw the needle, be thankful that he didn't go into cardiac arrest and do more damage to his heart than he's already had to endure. He'll offer you a few laughs and a few frowns, throw up his lunch, miss a day of rehab and then be back where was yesterday; like it was before this all happened. And give you a lesson in..."

"Why won't my arms work?" Chase asks in a loud angry tone.

"Paitence?" House retorts as he looks back at Chase.

"Are you going to cut them off also?"

"Yes! So stop asking."

"I need my arms," Chase's tone sighs as he closes his eyes once more; his brain offering another tormented image of him lying on a table as House holds up a saw to remove his arms.

"I was going to say parenting," Wilson resigns.

"I'm not a parent. I will offer you one hundred bucks to take him tonight," House offers Wilson as they near House's apartment.

"Noooo I want to go home with you dad…not Uncle Wilson."

"Your son has spoken," Wilson offers in amusement.

"He's high. He doesn't know what he wants."

"I do too. I want a turnip. And why won't my arms move!"

"Just think you won't need to worry about what to laugh at on TV, you have your high duckling to keep you amused."

"More like annoyed," House grumbles as Wilson tosses him a look that says the gruff exterior might fool the rest of the world around them but not him; inside knows House is concerned about what ill effects Chase will suffer and wouldn't trust his care to anyone else.

"You can't fool me. Just take it one breath at a time."

As the car stops and he gets out, House looks through the back window at Chase who looks up with wide, unblinking eyes. House offering him a small smile that makes Chase's face break into a wide grin as he sits and waits to be helped out of the backseat into the wheelchair.

"We missed the bus," Chase sighs as he looks around and then up at House and Wilson. "Was it my fault?"

"No, it was the turnips fault," House retorts as Wilson snickers and closes the trunk. "I'm taking the day tomorrow."

"Have fun tonight Brother Greg."

"That isn't funny Brother James," House chirps as he offers a small swat at Wilson who rewards him with a grin before getting into back into the drivers seat and leaving House and Chase to fend for themselves; a promise to call later and see how they had fared. "Keep your hands on your lap!" House snaps as Chase impedes their entering the building. "If not then no Jell-O."

Chase's hands quickly drop to his lap as he offers an older lady tenant a wide grin. "My mother's a turnip," he tells her proudly as House looks at her with a glare that says I don't care how old you are, if you ask anything about him I will pummel you with my cane. The older woman takes the hint and merely nods as she continues on her way, Chase giving her a frown before looking up at House. "Was she my mother?"

"No."

"Where's my mother? I want my mother."

"You don't have a mother. You only have me and if you don't stop making stupid requests I'm selling you."

"You can't sell me…you're not allowed," Chase counters as he rubs his face. "Why is my sleeve missing? Where's my sleeve? I want my sleeve!"

"Why don't you just close your eyes and rest," House suggests as he tries to wrestle Chase's hands away from the elevator buttons before the elevator comes to a halt and they'd really be stuck.

"When I close my eyes I see him."

"Who?"

"My father…my real father," Chase utters gravely as he looks up at House with a heavy frown. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," House sighs as he looks at the scuff mark on Chase's cheek and frowns. A few moments later the elevator doors open and House can only groan when Chase starts singing row row row your boat. "If I tell you to stuff a sock in it will you listen?"

"In what?"

"Your mouth."

"Am I wearing socks? Oh I am. Okay I'll get one!" Chase tries to lean forward, House quickly scrambling to grab Chase before he falls face first out of the wheelchair.

"That was rhetorical. Now stop moving."

"Mikey said that stuff would make me walk," Chase grumbles as he looks down at his legs.

"Well Mikey lied," House states matter of factly as he closes the apartment door and then looks down at Chase in wonder; Chase now trying to get his legs to move.

"They won't move. Why won't they move? I want them to move!"

House can only mutter to himself as he looks at Chase's appearance and for a few brief seconds contemplates trying to get him into the bathing chair to wash the mud off or just waiting until he was lucid enough to try to help without falling on his face and inadvertently hurting himself.

"I"m hungry," Chase announces. "Can I have my Jell-O and turnip now?"

"Not a good idea to eat."

"I want food!" Chase bellows as House shakes his head.

"If you eat you might barf."

"Will I?"

"You might you might not. But you also need to change. You smell."

"I do not smell. You smell," Chase retorts as he looks up at House in disdain and then grins. "Can we play Twister now?"

"I should record this and use it later."

"Record what?" Chase asks in confusion as he watches House pull away and head into his bedroom. Chase looks around; his mind flashing a few distorted images mixed with bright colors and forcing him to exhale heavily before heading into the living room; the right wheel striking the side of the bookshelf and causing a small picture frame to clatter to the ground – the glass shattering.

"I can fix it!" Chase exclaims as he tries to get out of the wheelchair, House's hands quickly pulling him back before he could topple them both. "I broke it," he slightly snickers. "Oops!"

"When will this stuff wear off?"

"Will I feel better?"

"No worse," House replies dryly as Chase scratches his head.

"Then I hope never."

"Well too bad because it will wear off soon. Now stay."

"Stay where?" Chase retorts with a small smirk. "Can I have Jell-O now? I was a good boy on the way home."

House looks at the sincere pleading on Chase's flushed face and can't help but offer the young man a small smile before he tenderly brushes away a piece of inner hoodie fleece that had snagged itself in his cheek stubble. "You need to just sit and be quiet a bit longer okay?" House requests in a quiet tone. "I'll get you some clean clothes and..."

"I WANT FOOD!"

"Robert pipe down!" House lighlty scolds. "You just need to sit here and wait for me okay?"

"Shhh!" Chase holds his fingers to his lips as he grins and House holds his stare. House pulls Chase's wheelchair back into the middle of the hallway and then disappears back into his bedroom to get some clean clothes. Chase looks around at the silence before the fresh pounding in his head forces him to close his eyes. Within seconds, however, the area around him darkens and his happy mood plummets, his mind flashing back to the lonely hallway of the apartment he was trapped in a few weeks ago by his natural father. His hands grip the sides of the wheelchair as he watches Rowan walking toward him with a stern expression; his heart rate climbing.

_'Stop stalling Robert. Get out of that chair right now!'_

"I can't," Chase whispers as he frowns at the empty space before him; the image of course only in his mind.

_'You only want attention. Get out of that chair right now and open the door! I SAID NOW!'_

"Okay," Chase mutters as he pushes down on the handles and tries to stand up; House rounding the corner and watching in horror as Chase's body crumples beneath him and he lands on the floor in an angry heap.

"Robert! Oh damn," House lightly gasps as he hurries toward his fallen duckling and gently turns him over; Chase staring up with a glassy-eyed gaze.

"He said I could walk. My father. He said I could walk," Chase whimpers as he looks up at House with a defeated expression.

"He," House grunts as he tries to get Chase to sit up against the wall, "was lying," House huffs as he looks down as Chase tries to figure out where the rest of his sleeve went.

"He said I want attention. My father never loved me. Do you love me?" Chase looks up with a heavy frown as his lips slightly purse.

"When you're not being insufferable," House whispers as he pushes a few damp strands off Chase's flushed forehead, Chase offering him a tender smile. "Don't try that again or you'll hurt yourself," House offers in a kind tone, unable to stay upset with Chase's pleading expression for very long.

"I'm hungry."

"I'll make some soup. Now…stay."

"Okay," Chase nods seriously as he watches House pull away and then head into the kitchen, he eyes looking at the dirty spokes of the wheelchair before him. "Look at the mud," he snickers as he reaches for a clump of the gooey dirt and squishes it in his hand. "Have to be quiet," he tries to suppress a laugh as he watches the dirt splat on the floor by his side.

He hears House rummaging around in the kitchen and decides to try to get to him by pulling himself down the hardwood flooring, thankful that he actually slides.

"I want Jell-O!" Chase looks up, forcing House to utter a small gasp as he turns to see Chase on his belly looking up.

"Where are my damn restraints?" House growls as he heads toward Chase and gently helps him sit upright, leaning against the wall.

"What are they for?"

"Keeping you in one place," House looks at Chase's flushed face in concern.

"I'm hungry. At least I think I am. Are we having turnips for supper?"

"You need to get into some clean clothes first and I was going to put the Jell-O into the fridge and then tend to you so if you promise to sit quietly for five more minutes I can get this done!" House growls and then quickly calms as Chase offers him a small adoring smile and House can only sigh in return. "Five minutes? Please?"

"Sure thing dad. I know you're not my dad," Chase mumbles as he looks away, his brow furrowing as his head starts to pound once more. "He left me."

"Just sit quietly now," House's kind tone brings Chase's somewhat watery gaze back to him. "No more sad thoughts okay?" House wipes away a few beads of sweat before they roll down into Chase's slightly puffy eyes; his hand resting on his cheek a few seconds. He knows that with everyone, the effects of a hit effect them differently and he wasn't sure when Chase would start to come down off the hit and feel sick or linger in his loopy state a while longer.

"Never had drugged duckling before," House smirks as he pushes some of his sweaty hair up making it stand upright.

"Is it good?" Chase asks eagerly.

"I'll tell you later," House winks as Chase's mind tries to compute the usually familiar reference. "Just sit here a bit longer okay? Think happy thoughts. Think about turnips and Twister."

"Okay," Chase nods; his mind, however, knowing that right now that was beyond his control and if Rowan's tormenting memory wanted pop back into his mind it would. Chase looks around as his stomach tightens and core temperature warms; his mind wanting to hold onto the happy thoughts for as long as possible. He looks down at his legs and then tries to grab one with both hands, struggling to lift it but then cursing when it falls limp to the ground.

"My legs are broken."

"Actually they are temporarily paralyzed from...they will work again soon," House explains matter of factly as Chase looks up in wonder. "Want something to eat?"

"Yes please!" He replies in haste as his hand rests on his stomach. "Do I like turnips?"

"Turnips are not on the menu tonight. Okay…up you come," House helps Chase get back into his now cleaned off wheelchair, Chase's hands gripping the sidebars and helping to pull himself back in. "I should belt you in."

"Promise to stay right where I am," Chase gives House a mock military salute to which House merely offers a wry smile. "What's for supper?" Chase asks as he reaches for a large kitchen knife when House's back is turned.

"Damn," House lightly curses as he snatches the knife before Chase can either of them. "Okay you wait in here," House commands as he wheels Chase into the living room and turns the TV on and then hands him the remote. "Watch whatever you want."

"Okay," Chase agrees as House heads back into the kitchen, wondering if Chase would even feel like eating and if it would stay for even a half hour when he's sure the drugs would start to wear off. He goes about making something simple, telling himself that while those on high can and do eat, coming down off the high, having less in the stomach would save them both a world of heartache. Chase was hungry and short of actually gagging him to keep him quiet, he would give him something to appease his demand; soup was the lesser of two evils he hears Wilson's voice reasoning in his head. He hears Chase starting to sing to something stupid on what he assumes is a cartoon channel and can't help but laugh; but it's not mere minutes later that he hears and angry curse followed by a loud clatter, bringing him into the living room to see Chase looking at him with anger.

"I want to go home!"

"You are home," House reminds him, as Chase exhales a growl and then looks down at his legs as House nears him. His hand rests on his shoulder and gives it a small squeeze, prompting Chase to look up in wonder. "This is your home. Your legs will work and in about half hour you're going to feel like absolute crap," he states in understanding as Chase's face screws in frustration. "But then you'll get it out of your system, work through a few night sweats and be back on your…wheels in a day," house slightly smirks. "Come now."

Chase mumbles an okay as he tries to follows after House, his aim however, being off he bumps into the edge of the bookshelf and utters an angry yelp as a book dislodges and falls on his foot. "That hurt," Chase grumbles as he picks up the book and prepares to toss it away, House quickly snatching it from his grasp before he can toss it at something breakable.

"That feeling in your foot was a good sign," House tells Chase as he pushes him into the kitchen and up to the table.

Chase frowns as he picks up the spoon. "This isn't Jell-O."

"Very perceptive. It's soup and it's better than hurling chunks which you'll probably be doing later."

"Comforting," Chase shrugs as he tries to scoop up some soup and then aims for his mouth, getting most inside but offering a small chuckle when some slides down his chin and House shakes his head but holds his tongue as he carefully cleans the side of his face and lets him continue. Chase lifts his arm and then looks at his cut sleeve; House quickly intervening before he can be subjected to another bout of Chase whining about his missing sleeve.

About half hour later, House exits the kitchen and then spies Chase trying to get into the bathroom; his wheels being stuck and his agitation growing.

"Took the training wheels off too soon I see," House lightly smirks as he helps Chase line up the wheels for the bathroom and then slowly enters. "Might I ask what you're wanting to do?"

"Change or…something," Chase looks at his dirty hoodie and then up at House with a frown. "My stomach is on fire."

"Coming down a bit sooner than expected."

"Is that bad?"

"No, it's normal," House's answers as his hand rests on Chase's forehead as he nods. "Time to get you ready for bed."

"I need something cold," Chase requests as he starts to pull at his hoodie. House helps him take off the soiled and damaged hoodie, tossing it aside and then looking down at his dirt clad sweatpants. "Can I have something for my stomach?"

"Gravol? Because you can't have anything more in the way of food; Jell-O is for tomorrow."

"It has to come out right?"

"It might and it might not. Everyone reacts differently," House replies kindly as he tries to push Chase's mussed up locks back down to his head. "My duckling looks silly."

"Do I have a duckling?"

"You do."

"Where is my duckling?"

"He needed a bath," House answers in truth as he reaches for the cleaned off ubber ducky and hands it back to Chase, who takes the small plastic toy and grins at it. "Now my boy is happy," House utters affectionately. "Okay let's get you into something clean."

Chase lifts his weary arms and allows House to pull off his damp tee-shirt; House telling Chase that he'd help him have a shower the next day when he was sure he wasn't go into throw up or fall out of the chair and hurt himself further. After he was dressed in a clean tee and sweatpants, House helps him back into his bedroom and then into his bed.

"Just rest now," House tells him as his hand rests on his flushed cheek and then moves up to his forehead.

"I knew you'd find me today," Chase utters with a small yawn as he tries to adjust himself in bed. But when he moves too fast, his body finally starts to show him whose boss, his stomach telling him it was done holding its contents in and he bows his head and throws up; half on the bed and half on the floor.

"Damn…sorry," Chase groans as he pulls back from the edge of the bed, House telling him to just lie still and he'd take care of it. "I'll…sleep on the…" Chase's stomach constricts once more and the rest of the mostly liquid soup and a few cracker bits. "Ah…gross," Chase sighs as he slumps back down as House reenters his room. "Now…I feel sick."

"Just lie still."

"Okay," Chase grimaces as he closes his eyes; his face morphing into a frown as his stomach tightens and his brow dampens further. "Ahhh…glad I don't do this…on a regular basis."

"Can't see you as a pusher," House gently teases as he finishes cleaning up the mess and then stands up and looks at Chase in concern.

"I can sleep…on the couch," Chase mutters in a miserable tone as House pushes the wheelchair to the other side of the bed and helps him get into it; Chase's frame sagging into the seat, prompting House to gently scoop him up under the underarms and help him back up into a proper position. Chase's hands grab his stomach as he leans forward, House quickly shoving the small bowl under Chase's lips, the other hand on Chase's back gently stroking as the young man's body buckles under what finally amount to dry heaves.

"I think my duckling is finally empty," House whispers as he tenderly brushes away a few heated tears as Chase's eyes squeeze shut and then he slowly sits up, his arms still wrapped around his stomach.

"Finally," Chase wheezes as he leans back and looks up at House. "I feel…horrible."

"You'll be fine," House tells him as he slowly pushes him out of his bedroom and then heads for the living room; pauses for a few seconds before flipping off the light and heading for his own bedroom.

"But…"

"Less hassle if you sleep with me."

"With…you."

"Just don't kick me," House playfully teases as Chase's face tries to offer a small smirk but ends up in a grimace as his stomach endures another painful dry contraction. "And it's less travelling for me having to help you."

"I'm…sorry," Chase whispers as they near House's bed.

"Say sorry if you barf in my bed because then you will be sorry," House retorts with a dry tone; Chase nodding as House stops the wheelchair by the right side of the bed.

"House please I don't mind…ahhh…." Chase huffs as his face crunches once more.

House reaches for the cool cloth in the bowl he had ready and gently presses it against Chase's forehead and then the back of his neck. "Hush now and just concentrate on not barfing again."

"Ok-ay," Chase nods as he tries to help House help him onto the right side of the bed, his head slumping down onto the pillow and looking up at House with a heavy frown. "I…ahh….am hot."

"Take a deep breath and close your eyes," House's hand tenderly touches his flushed cheek.

"If I close my eyes…I'll see _him,_" Chase offers bitterly as House frowns.

"He can't hurt you," House promises as he gently dabs his forehead with the cool cloth and then the side of his neck; Chase's eyes closing gratefully. "He'll never hurt you again."

"I was more afraid…of my father…than them…today…the uh…ducklingnappers," Chase looks up with a weary smile. "Now I'm hot again," Chase protests the covers.

"Just don't push them all the way off. Want your tee off?"

"Will it help?"

"You could be cold in about five seconds and want it back on and you're on your own."

"No, I'll be okay," Chase replies as his heavy eyes finally start to close, dirty blond lashes resting on soft flushed cheeks.

House looks at the peaceful expression on the younger man beside him and slightly frowns. He had gone through so much and despite being somewhat insufferable earlier, House knows Wilson was right; he wouldn't have entrusted Chase's care to anyone but himself. Just before he turns off the light, his phone buzzes and he's quick to grab it before Chase can awaken. It doesn't work and Chase slighlty stirs.

_'Did you survive?'_

_'It was entertaining. Don't say I told you so b/c I already knew that.'_

_'Robert's in good hands. I'll see you tomorrow. G'nite. Uncle Wilson lol'_

House puts his phone away and then looks down at Chase as he rolls onto his side; the small rubber duck still in his grasp; House pulling the sheet over his trembling frame and helping to pull it over and rest on Chase's shoulder. "My boy will rest all day tomorrow."

"mmm kay," Chase agrees with a small sleepy tone; his eyes remaining closed.

"Goodnight duckling," House whispers, thinking that Chase hadn't heard.

"g'nite…dad," Chase whispers before he finally falls into darkness, House's face breaking into a genuine expression of comfort before he turns off the light and slinks down a bit further; praying the night ahead isn't too disruptive but not counting on anything solid.

* * *

**A/N:** so hopefully there was a nice mixture of humorous banter and angst in here and of course some fatherly care for our poor drugged up duckling (hehe) how will they fare through the night? And will Chase finally get his Jell-O? Would love your thoughts before you go so please do stay tuned before you go and thanks so much!


	16. The Longest Night

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 16 – The Longest Night**

**A/N: **Thanks to Autumamberleaves for the discussion/request. I hope you liked it and to the rest hope you also all like this update and thanks!

* * *

He had observed many people coming down off of drug withdrawals and knows the symptoms well (Sweating, Racing heart, Palpitations, Muscle tension, Tightness in the chest, Difficulty breathing, Tremors, Nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea). Most people he would callously tell them to suck it up and deal with the mess they caused themselves; but as soon as the first tormented gasp comes in the darkness a inches away; his mind and heart raced at the same time with new found feelings of concern; feelings that were once again foreign to him but at the same time comforting.

"Ahhhhh…" Chase's lips groan as House flips on the light and looks down at the young man beside him and frowns; his body tangled in the sheets – the only things keeping him from falling to the floor in a painful heap. "Am…okay…" Chase huffs as House's hand instantly reaches out and rests on his sweaty forehead. "Chest…hurts…" he gasps once more as his watery eyes squeeze shut, salty droplets escaping the corners and slowly sliding down his flushed cheeks. "Not okay…House help me please…I need something for this pain," Chase gasps as he rolls toward the other edge of the bed.

"Robert, look at me," House tenderly requests after he had pulled Chase back toward the middle of the bed and brushed back his sweat soaked strands from his forehead.

Chase slowly opens his eyes and looks up as his lips gasp again. "My heart…it's racing."

"I know but…"

"I need….something, please House," Chase's hands grip House's arms as he holds on. "I need something to ease this…ahhhh pain please."

"I can't."

"Please!"

"No!" House snaps in return before he calms back down at Chase's tormented expression. "You know you just want another hit to ease the drug withdrawals. You are not a druggie and therefore are not getting anything more."

"I know but…it hurts," Chase whispers in misery as his eyes water once more. "Just something…for the pain. Please?"

"Robert…"

"I know but…maybe a Tylenol," Chase suggest with a hint of delirium in his tone as he looks away. "Please," he begs in a soft whisper as House turns him back to face him. "Please?"

"I can't give you anything right now. I know it hurts and I'm sorry but we can't risk it right now. I'm sorry," House utters in regret, knowing that to introduce Chase's heart medication if there was still some drug residue in his system could cause further issues and he wasn't about to watch Chase go into cardiac arrest in his home and then be taken to the hospital only to be forced to spend the night in a cold hospital bed being tended to by an uncaring nurse. He wouldn't allow it, if at all possible. "I'm sorry," House tries to soothe as he strokes Chase's chattering jaw; Chase instantly easing under his touch.

"I know…I know…." Chase huffs as he grabs his empty stomach. In one way he was glad he nothing left as he would now avoid actually throwing up in House's bed but with his stomach being so empty the dry heaves were painfully forcing his heart to race and his body to tremble; his mind offering tormented images of his natural father laughing at his pitiful state.

_'Come now Robert…you only want attention. Take your punishment like a man. You brought this on yourself.'_

"Sorry…father."

"What?" House asks in surprise.

"I'm….okay…ahhh…just…hurts," Chase gasps as he rolls back onto his side; away from House, House's brow furrowing as he looks at the sweat stain on Chase's back and knows he will need something dry after this bout of tremors subsides. House leaves Chase gently writhing on the right side of the bed as he heads back into Chase's room and then the bathroom, coming back with a handful of clean, dry tee-shirts and a bowl of cool water.

House waits for the latest bouts of harsh tremors to subside before he takes action. "Arms up," House gently directs as he lightly struggles with Chase's trembling frame to get his arms up and the damp tee-shirt off his frame; Chase flopping back down, his tongue feeling heavy and thick in his dry mouth, his throat unable to swallow and his entire frame on fire.

"Stomach hurts," Chase lightly whimpers as House gently rolls him to his side and pats his back dry with the towel and then dampens a small washcloth and holds it against the back of his neck before he gently turns him onto his back and puts it on his forehead. "Chest…hurts," Chase moans again as his fists tighten and his face screws in pain. "Everything…hurts."

"I know it hurts. Just take a deep breath. It will pass," House tries to soothe as Chase grunts once more as his chest races. But the more House's calming voice talks to the, the faster he feels his tremors starting to subside. Chase too was no stranger to withdrawal symptoms, but not really having come down anything other than a wicked hangover; he just wasn't ready for the pain offered nor the worry that accompanied the knowledge that he was on very strong heart medication and this could very realistically deal him a real setback.

"Deep breath," House coaches once more as his hand rests on Chase's flushed cheek; Chase's watery blue eyes opening once more as he looks up at the concerned face looking down.

"What if I have…a heart attack…god it hurts," he lightly pants as he takes another deep breath, praying for the pain to subside and his stomach to at least stop offering him more bouts of empty heaves.

"You will be fine. If your medication would have reacted adversely it would have done so yesterday but…" House stops his technical response and forces himself to offer Chase a kind expression. "You won't."

"How…do you know?"

"I know everything now stop arguing and just breathe," House retorts kindly as he looks down at the bandage on Chase's chest. "And let me get a dry tee-shirt on you," House comments as he notices Chase's skin now blazing with shiver bumps.

"Okay," Chase manages as his body finally untenses and he slumps back into the soft pillow. He lifts his arms and allows House to help him pull on a dry tee-shirt before he pulls the covers back over; his body now offering a new bout of chills.

"Just close your eyes and rest now," House instructs as he checks Chase's temperature once more; satisfied that it wasn't as on fire as it was before because he knows inside there's nothing he can give him right now until the bulk of the night had passed.

"Don't…want to go…to the hospital," Chase's eyes open suddenly and he states with a heavy frown.

"Dear duckling stop fretting about things that I won't let happen," House shushes Chase with a gentle tone as Chase tries to nod; his expression morphing into more of a grimace than anything as his body shudders once more before collapsing back into the darkness. "I will be here when you wake up."

"Promise…" Chase mumbles with a soft whisper.

"Promise."

Chase rolls onto his right side, closer to House, House looking down at the younger man in concern as his brow furrows once more. His hand reaches out and gingerly touches Chase's face, gently brushing away a piece of Kleenex that had affixed itself to his sweaty stubble, his mind for a few seconds wondering if that's how it felt for a father to care for a sick child; a defenseless minor that looked to him for protective comfort. Of course he knows that Chase is neither a minor nor defenseless, but feelings were starting to stir deep within that forced him to want to protect the young man from harm at any cost.

"Snap out of it," House tries to reason with himself; his brain hearing Wilson's voice inside telling him that he had always watched over Chase with a parental eye and now that he had the chance to step into the role to embrace it and offer the young man some genuine comfort in his time of need.

With the light dimmed, House leans back on the bedframe and looks down at Chase once more, his heart settling as he takes some comfort in the younger man's steady breathing pattern instead of the small gasps for fresh air. He remains still, knowing that Chase's rest might not be as solid as both want; knowing were probably still some horrific nightmares waiting to be unleashed as his mind comes back into clarity from its forced drugged haze.

House closes his eyes and instantly he's whisked back in time to that fateful day a few weeks back. Remembering it clear as day. He had pulled what some might call a cruel prank; something he thought rather humorous at the time, in putting some hair dye in the shampoo that Chase had used and inadvertently given away that Chase was sleeping with a team member. Chase of course responded back rather maturely, washing out the temporary dye and focusing his time and attention on their new case – the case that would serve to alter his future forever.

_'Dr. House, come quick it's Dr. Chase!'_

_'What's happened? He's dyed his hair blue?' House had recalled offering a snicker to the young intern's rather panic-stricken expression. 'Well tell me already.'_

_'He's been stabbed…in the heart…by a patient…'_

House remembers standing fixed in time as he stared at the young female intern as if she just told him that he had grown a third eye and would need to buy reading glasses with a third lens. His mind had spiraled downward as the news finally registered. _Chase was stabbed…my Chase? My ducking? _But something inside refused to believe it was real; not wanting to think that anything horrific could happen to his most beloved subordinate. _Is this a joke or is this for real? It's a joke, Chase is only trying to get you back for turning his hair an awful shade of red. Relax it's nothing._

_'Right and I suppose that he's spiked my shampoo also.'_

_'You need to come now. Dr. Adams said for y…'_

_'Adams? Sorry but you'll have to do better than h…'_

_Was all House managed before the overhead paging system went off calling for security; the intern dashing back into the hallway; House's world thudding to a sudden halt. "Chase…was stabbed…" he muttered almost mechanically before his brain finally switched into gear. He quickly stood up, pushed himself away from his desk so fast that the chair toppled and crashed into the bookcase behind him. _

_Grabbing his cane and hurrying into the hallway as fast as he could, he rounded the corner to where the patient's room that Chase had gone to and stopped dead. For the first time in maybe his life; a witty/sarcastic remark failed to leave his lips as he watched his beloved duckling a few feet away, covered in blood, being bodily lifted onto a stretcher, Adams on top of him with her finger in his chest – ultimately saving his life._

_The world around him started to blur, Chase's various expressions starting to slowly swirl around him; the wide blue eyes offering at first a happy, playful smile but then quickly followed by a tormented expression of shattered innocence. I was stabbed…because of you…I went in there…because of you…'Chase,' he finally uttered, stopping the images and bringing him back to reality. _

_He rushed forward, wanting to get to the rapidly moving bed, being held back as his eyes fixed on Chase's somewhat lifeless expression; eyes closed, lips slightly parted, face splattered with blood and Adams on his chest, shouting that they had to get him into the OR stat! He turned and watched the stretcher bearing his youngest team member down the hall; his legs unable to do anything but keep him in place._

_This is a joke right? An elaborate set-up to get back at me? Chase is fine. I wouldn't allow him to…he's fine right? Chase?_

_Finally able to find the strength to move from place, House followed after Chase's medical entourage as it headed for the operating room, convinced that this was just a joke and he'd push through the doors and Chase and his team would be standing there laughing at him for falling for something and forcing him to reveal that he was for even a few seconds concerned. _

_'See told you mates…crusty old Dr. House actually does care. He cared that he might have to pay me overtime.' Ha ha ha _

_But as he rounded the corner he saw that – it wasn't a joke; the two doors quickly swinging back as another doctor hurries to scrub up; Adams still perched on top of Chase's chest, blood – everywhere. Chase drifting toward death._

_'Chase.'_

_The words had died from his lips in that moment as his heart sunk, his mind raced and teeth bit into the lower part of his jaw. Chase…his beloved duckling…lying so helplessly on the operating table, eyes closed…lips slightly parted…covered in his own blood. House felt a part of himself die in that very moment; his mind racing as to what might happen if Chase did indeed fail to pull through the somewhat risky surgery. I can't lose him. I can't. I won't. Not Chase. Not now. Not ever. _

_After that he had used every medical and professional excuse he could think of to visit Chase and yet remain outwardly detached in front of his team; not wanting to betray to those around him, the hidden concern inside for his broken duckling; his heart aching at seeing Chase so alone and vulnerable in the large hospital bed following the successful surgery. Only Wilson had been brave enough to call him on his erratic actions telling him that he was allowed to visit Chase if he wanted. _

_'Oh come on House, you can fool everyone else but not me. You've always cared for Robert, always viewed him as special. Now you have to be the one to show him he's not alone. He has a hell of a road before him. He's got no one else.'_

_Of course he wanted to visit. He wanted to affix himself to Chase's bedside and never leave. He had to. He owed it to him right? Owed? Not wanted? And yet that inner feeling of guilt started to eat away at him, consume his thoughts until he was standing before Chase's hospital window, at night – in silence. Just watching. Watching over him with a careful eye. Always watching. Always._

_'Go in,' Wilson had prodded. But he couldn't. It hurt too much. He was to blame. Chase was taken out of his life's merry game because of his own actions. How could he ever repay him? But he would. He would find away. That's when a plan started to form; something inside that would force him to step into a role he told himself long forgotten. Dead. And in that moment he had settled in his mind to do for Chase whatever he could to prove to both of them, but mostly himself that this turning point was something he could no longer ignore. He did care. Now he had to prove it with actions._

"Father…no…no more," Chase's lips mumble as House is quickly pulled back to his present reality by the tormented plead. "Please…no….more."

House looks down and frowns as Chase's face crunched in pain. But as soon as House's fingers rest on his cheek and he starts to gently hum, Chase's verbal agitation slowly subsides and his face softens – his eyes, however, remaining closed. House's heart takes silent satisfaction in his ability to be able to offer soothing comfort that is accepted and happy that his watching over Chase wasn't in vain. He thinks back to when Rowan showed up in the hospital that night and how at first Chase was so happy and elated but how that world quickly crashed down and Chase was forced to come face to face with the real monster his biological father was.

_'Dr. House doesn't care…only wants something to talk about. You amuse him. Nothing more.'_

"No father…not…true," Chase mutters with another quiet gasp, his mouth dry and eyes starting to flutter in the dimly lit surroundings.

_'You won't get better on your own then maybe you don't need to get better ever.' Rowan laughs as Chase is strapped down and he pulls out the surgical saw. 'Time to lose those legs.'_

"FATHER NO!" Chase shouts as he bolts upright in bed, nearly pushing House off his side of the bed; his trembling arms shooting out behind him and his lungs gasping for air.

"Just breathe," House quickly interjects as his right hand dives in behind his back and helps him remain upright, Chase's chest heaving as he tries to get his watery eyes to focus. "You're safe. Shhhh you're safe now."

"House…I saw…my father," Chase gently pants as he leans forward, his body on fire once more. "Was going to…cut off my legs."

"Well I don't think I'll let him," House states firmly as he continues to gently stroke Chase's trembling back.

"I need…some water. Please…my mouth is so dry," Chase turns and looks at House with a defeated expression. "Just a taste," he begs as his arms stop trembling and wrap around his stomach. "My stomach hurts."

"Robert…"

"Please…just a few, I'll be fine, I promise. Please…help me."

Not sure if it would do more harm than good, House reluctantly gets up off the bed and heads for the kitchen, not wanting to introduce anything to Chase's stomach in case he was to throw up but unable to listen to the soft tormented requests to help ease some suffering and not act.

"Just a few sips," House warns as he hands Chase the small plastic cup with cold water.

Chase takes a few sips, finding some relief as the cool liquid soothes his dry lungs on the way down to his churning stomach; Chase slowly leaning back on the pillow and looking up at House in misery. "I feel awful."

"You look awful," House quips as Chase purses his lips. "I thought that was funny."

"You…would," Chase groans as his arms slump down at his sides.

"What is it?"

"I hate this. I hate feeling useless and miserable and…like I can't get out of the damn bed on my own to take a damn piss!" Chase curses before his looks away in anger.

"Want a catheter?" House tosses at him as Chase looks back with a narrowed gaze. "I see my duckling is getting his fight back," he hands out the small compliment to which Chase's face can only soften at. "Come on," House lightly huffs as he steadies the wheelchair for Chase to get himself into.

Chase's hands rest on his throbbing head but he knows he can't have a painkiller until most of the withdrawal symptoms had worked through. And as he passes by the clock in the hallway he feels himself cringe at the time; he'd kept House awake most of the night with his various bouts of tormented symptoms.

"Don't look at the clock," House gently scolds as Chase's weary eyes tear themselves away from the clock and look up at him in wonder. "I'm not mad. I expected it which is why I kept you close."

Chase's lips automatically curl into a small smile at the kind words, something he knows House would never admit to in the real world, but something he'll carry with him into the few hours remaining in the early morning. A few minutes later he finishes his business and then wheels up to the mirror and looks at his peaked and haggard expression with a heavy frown; resting back in the seat of the wheelchair as his eyes battle to stay awake – fatigue calling to him.

House listens to the silence building in the bathroom and dares to slowly open the door and poke his head inside; finally pushing the door all the way open and sighing at the sight of Chase slumped over in his wheelchair before the sink and slowly heading toward him.

"Boo!" House whispers in Chase's left ear as his body gently jerks awake in response. "My ducklings nest isn't in the bathroom."

"Oh…sorry right…" Chase murmurs as he struggles to sit upright, his head starting to spin at his fast movements. House's hand, however, rests on his shoulder, silently signaling for him to remain put and then fuss when he's back in bed.

"How's the tummy?" House inquires as he helps Chase back onto the right side of his bed and looks down in concern.

"The pangs of nausea have left but it's still…tight. My heart on the other hand is sore, breathing hurts also," Chase frowns as his right hand gently rests on it. "I hope I haven't damaged anything."

"I think you're going to be just fine," House gently tugs Chase's hand back from his chest and puts it under the blanket and then pulls the blanket over him. "Just don't tell anyone I used the word tummy."

"Yes dad," Chase replies with a serious expression as he nods; letting the parental title slip in his very lucid state. House gives Chase a small smirk before he turns off the light and stumbles back to his side of the bed; hoping to get at least a few hours sleep before the long day ahead.

Chase settles back into his nest of covers, his core still warm and stomach tight, but the pangs of nausea finally gone. His chest however was still sore and he did wonder if perhaps he strained his heart a bit too much and would be dealt a setback on his physio.

"Do you think I delayed my physio now?"

"No."

"But…"

"Where's my sock?" House huffs as Chase snickers in the dimly lit room. "Put your mind to rest for a few hours you will be fine."

Chase takes the advice and allows his weary eyes to shut and his mind to whisk him into the dark realm of sleep. Early the next morning, House slowly opens his eyes and blinks; looking up as he hears a small shuffle and gazing in surprise at Wilson standing in his doorway.

Wilson cocks his head to the right; but House doesn't need his best friend to tell him what he's eyeing with friendly affection – Chase's soundly sleeping frame pressed up against his, silently begging for some fatherly care; House giving it unintentionally. House holds a finger to his lips, gesturing to Wilson not to make a sound and chance to wake his sleeping duckling before he regrettably removes himself away from Chase's warm frame.

Chase's lips offer a small protest but thankfully he doesn't awaken; House silently following after Wilson into the kitchen, where their voices wouldn't be heard.

"Daddy House actually allowed his boy to sleep with him?"

"What do you want?" House asks with a small snap as Wilson looks at him with a telling grin.

"I asked first," Wilson retorts; not backing down.

"Saved me from running back and forth down the hall to clean up after him. And you can stop looking at me with that Cheshire cat smile. it's annoying."

"Only because you know it means I was right. But I'm glad, Robert has no one. How is he this morning?"

"He had some rough panic attacks during the night and is worried about his heart as I am, but he should be fine. He's had to suffer through the attacks and headaches without medicinal help," House rattles on as he glances back to his quiet room and then back at Wilson with a frown. "He's just going to rest all day."

"You look tired," Wilson notes.

"Can I blame you?"

"Me?" Wilson smirks. "Why me?"

"You didn't offer to help."

"Would you have let me?" Wilson counters.

"Not on your life," House replies dryly. "So what are you bringing for supper?"

"Supper?"

"Well you are my brother and therefore have to do my bidding."

"That would make me your slave," Wilson deadpans as they head for the front door.

"Semantics," House retorts.

House tells Wilson a bit more about Chase's symptoms before Wilson leaves and House carefully tiptoes back to bed and eases himself down, Chase's frame once again curling up beside him without much fuss. House looks down at the younger man with a tender endearment but frowns. Had the drugs strained his heart? Would there be any lingering ill side effects from his forced bout with the powerful drugs that would deal him a real setback? He watches Chase's face softly crunch and automatically rests his fingers on Chase's forehead, the younger man's face instantly softening at the older man's caring touch.

About twenty minutes later, Chase's eyes slowly flutter open, finally lifting upward to see how close he was to House but thankful that the older man didn't make things awkward by asking him to move away. "What…time is it?"

House surprises Chase by reaching into a nearby drawer pulling out a clean sock and gently stuffing it between his lips. "Time to stop worrying about the time," House smirks as Chase chuckles through the sock in his mouth before he plucks it out. "Don't pout I warned you right?"

"That was only if I continued to sing," Chase argues back and then tries to pout again.

"You know you're pout on demand isn't _that_ convincing," House folds his arms over his chest as Chase gently props himself up with his folded arms under his head, looking up at House with a heavy sigh.

"At least I didn't barf in your bed."

"And for that I thank you," House answers back. "How is your tummy this morning?" He asks, to which Chase arches his brows in surprise. "We're still in private I can say tummy," House counters.

"Can I tell Uncle Wilson?" Chase snickers as House offers him a wry expression. "Or not?"

"How do you feel?" House asks with a bit more serious concern in his tone.

"Stomach is sore because it's empty and my heart…is sore," Chase's answer dies out as his hand rests protectively over it and he looks down at his chest. "I think I'll skip…physio today," Chase yawns as he looks up at House once more. "Can I have pancakes for breakfast please?"

"Only water for you young man," House retorts with a mock serious expression; smiling at himself for being able to make Chase pout on his silent command. "Enough with the pout," House huffs as Chase's pout morphs into a wide grin.

"And a turnip daddy?" He teases with a snicker.

"Now you're pushing it. Turnip flavored pancakes? Mmmm," House looks down with a wide sinister grin to which Chase actually pulls back from.

"That is actually…scary," Chase smirks as he watches House reach for something.

"Better than offering roasted duckling for breakfast."

House places his rubber ducky on his chest; Chase smiling at the comforting little symbol that had come to mean so much more than a mere piece of plastic to him.

"Hello ducky," Chase greets his little toy with a warm smile. "I need…" Chase exhales as he tries to sit up, moving too fast and feeling a dizzy pang force him back down.

"To lie still a bit longer and make slow movements," House warns as he slowly pulls away from Chase and stands up and stretches.

"Okay," Chase nods as he watches House take his leave. Chase slumps back down and rests his hand on his forehead and sighs, his eyes closing briefly but then snapping open when he hears his natural father's mocking laugh. "Damn…bastard," he lightly curses as places the yellow rubber ducky on the small bedside table on his side and reaches for his wheelchair; pausing for a minute before he takes a deep breath and continues on his way. As he slumps down into the chair he rests a few minutes, looking back at the bed where he had spent his restless night.

He almost felt sorry for keeping House awake the better part of the night but knows inside that there was nowhere else he'd want to work through his withdrawals and no one else he'd rather look after him than House. He hadn't intended to curl up next to him but the fact that House never pushed him away, and actually hummed to him a few times to get him to relax, settled his mind and heart as he's sure it helped him through the night more than he could reason on.

"I think I should be able to have coffee right?" Chase asks as he slowly wheels himself into the kitchen. House turns and looks at his pale expression and mussed up hair, most of it sticking up on top of his head and can't help but smile in spite of himself. "What?"

"You can have coffee," House smirks as Chase's hands try in vain to paste down the unruly strands. "You need a shower."

"I know," Chase agrees with a small smile as he heads for the counter to prepare some coffee for them both; the smell of pancakes and bacon calling to his senses and causing his stomach to leap for culinary joy. He then heads for the fridge and pulls it open; uttering a small chuckle at the bowl of green Jell-O on the top shelf.

"Uh uh…" House swats at Chase's hand before he can pull the bowl of Jell-O down. "That's for supper."

"Better than turnips," Chase frowns as he pulls back and looks up with a pout.

"Supper," House reiterates firmly as Chase's mock pout disappears. "Better. Now you can set the table."

"Yes sir," Chase retorts with a small chortle and heads for the cupboard that was made more Chase-friendly in his current condition, grabs some plates and heads back to the table. He tells House about a few silly dreams he had in his drugged out state; House careful not to mention Rowan's tormented appearance if Chase didn't want to bring it up.

"Breakfast is served," House announces as he places the modest plate of pancakes and bacon on the table; Chase pouring them the coffee and both settling in for the most important meal of the day; the last meal always being the most entertaining.

After breakfast, House shoos Chase into the living room to rest; slowly coming into the area about half hour later and looking down at the couch to see Chase fast asleep on it. He leaves his precious duckling to his rest as he heads back into his bedroom and then does some laundry. Another hour later he returns back to the living room to see Chase still soundly asleep on his side. He gently covers him with a blanket, Chase's body slightly stirring but thankfully not fully waking. As per his growing routine, House settles into a chair beside the couch, close enough to Chase but not enough to wake him, puts on his reading glasses and reaches for his book, his eyes taking turns darting between the pages of the written material in his grasp and the soft groans coming from Chase's slightly parted lips; the former not holding his attention as much as the latter.

XXXXXXXX

"Need…my legs…" Chase whispers in a soft tone sometime later, House's body jerking awake at the soft outcry, his hands fumbling with his book as he hastens awake and swiftly glances over at Chase on the couch a few feet away. "No House…please...need my legs…father no…tell him…ummm…him…" he ends in an incoherent babble as House's face sets into an expression of concern.

"Need them!" Chase exclaims as his eyes snap open and he firstly stares straight up at the ceiling and then looks over at House in wonder. "How long…what time is it?"

"You needed your rest," House states pointedly as he leans in, his fingers gently resting on Chase's forehead and lingering for a few seconds longer. "Not hot anymore."

"I feel…better. Just wish the nightmares would stop," Chase groans as he looks back up, his hands rubbing his face. He lingers in a lying down position until he slowly pushes himself upright and props himself up with pillows and looks over at House with a small frown. "I need a shower."

"You do smell," House retorts seriously as Chase's lips purse. "But…your wish is my command."

"Really?" Chase mutters as he struggles to get his legs swung over the edge of the couch. He reaches for the edge of his wheelchair just as a knock is heard at the door and he looks up at House in surprise. "Oh come on, even you're not that good."

"Wanna bet?" House winks as he stands up and slowly heads for the front door, Chase looking after him in wonder. But as soon as he hears Bruno's voice his wonder is put to rest; a smile forming as the gentle giant enters the room and looks down at Chase in sympathy.

"Since you missed the session today, I brought session to you. On Dr. House's request of course."

"My duckling's starting to smell," House wrinkles his nose to which Chase scoffs and tosses a small pillow at him. "Oh not fair to have a pillow fight with Bruno here," House comments as Bruno looks at him in question. "You'd obviously win," House states in sarcasm as Bruno grins and nods; his strong hands helping get Chase settled in his wheelchair.

"I'll meet you in the bathroom."

"Be right there," Chase nods as he heads for his bedroom, House slowly following.

"You play nice in there," House teases as he helps Chase gently tug off his sweatpants and tee until he was just in his grey boxers and House's arms gently lift him under his armpits and helps him into the cold plastic bathing chair; his skin instantly blazing with shiver bumps.

"What is it? I'm just cold that's all," Chase mentions as he notices House looking down at him in concern. "Did I hurt myself further?"

"No. I'm just worried about what internal strain the drugs might have done. Let's get you cleaned up okay?"

"Thought you told me not to worry."

"I'm not you," House argues back. "Let's go now."

"Okay," Chase agrees in a soft tone; his mind also wondering if the drugs had caused any internal damage or setback. He wheels into the bathroom, turning to see House toss him his rubber ducky and adding an appreciative smile before the door is closed and Bruno, already dressed in his swim trunks, steps into the wide stall and turns on the taps to warm up the room; Chase working to remove his boxers.

"Dr. House said you were sick."

"I'm sorry Bruno," Chase lightly apologizes. "Actually I was um…I was accidentally stuck with a needle full of speed," Chase signs as Bruno looks at him in wonder. "I didn't miss our session on purpose."

"Man I'm sorry. That's scary stuff," Bruno huffs as he pushes Chase into position and then gently helps him stand upright; Chase's arms instantly clinging to the shower handles as Bruno starts to wash him clean. He closes his eyes as he starts to feel tingling in his feet and starting to trail up his ankles; a continued welcome sensation signaling healing progression.

As he listens to Bruno's recounting of his experimental ordeal with the strong substance, Chase finds himself feeling sorry for his friend as he realizes how fortunate he is to have had House tending to him through is ordeal; the older man treating him with caring concern whereas Bruno was just dumped in a cold rehab center by his mother to let him fend for himself.

"I'm sorry Bruno," Chase whispers in return as Bruno and him switch places, Bruno's hands resting on his hips to support him while Chase washed whatever else he needed to.

"Ah it's okay but I get why you didn't want to get out of bed today. Damn the withdrawals suck," Bruno groan as Chase nods and ducks his head under the hot streams to wash out the remnants of soap and dirt from his ordeal with the hapless ducklingnappers as he inwardly chuckles. Chase finally feels his arms starting to tire and signals for Bruno to help him back into the bathing chair and he'd be ready to dry himself a few moments later; his body wanting to remain under the hot streams a bit longer.

Chase closes his eyes and allows the hot water to trickle down his clean, bare skin; the warmth soothing his tension completely away. Finally when he feels himself getting wrinkled, he turns off the water and pulls back, wheeling out of the shower stall and back into the main bathroom area to dry off and then wait for Bruno to help him get back into some clean, dry clothes.

"My duckling has lost his punk rock look," House nods to Chase's matted down tresses.

"Punk rock?" Bruno questions as House leans in and starts to form a small faux hawk with Chase's cooperative hair; Bruno offering a small smirk as Chase just remains in his wheelchair and offers a somewhat amused expression. As soon as House turns back to supper, Chase's hands quickly pull his hair back down, House turning around and eyeing Chase in suspicion; Chase looking up with a cheeky grin.

"Careful or no Jell-O for dessert."

"Really? You made Jell-O? What flavor?"

"Lime," Chase replies proudly to which Bruno offers at the exact same time, "my favorite."

"Children," House mutters as Chase and Bruno give each other a high five behind House's back; a knock being heard on the door a few seconds later. Bruno goes to answer it as Chase looks at House in wonder. "Uncle Wilson's a bit late," House huffs as he tests the gravy for the stew.

"I came bearing…gifts," Wilson announces as he looks at Chase after handing House the casserole dish. "How are you feeling today?"

"I have a feeling that the two of you had a few laughs at my expense."

"Now why would you say that?" Wilson retorts with a grin.

"Look Robert, Uncle Wilson brought turnips for supper," House shows him the casserole dish with the roasted root vegetable in it; Chase looking at it and then up at Wilson with a dry expression.

"Dreamt about the damn things last night," Wilson groans as the four of them head into the living room to have dinner; Bruno unable to resist asking about the reference to the turnips that House and Wilson were somehow finding more amusement over than Chase.

"Chase thought his mother was a turnip," Wilson offers.

"I did not."

"And a tenant," House adds.

"What? Who?" Chase asks in shock.

"Mrs. Stubbs."

"Oh damn really?" Chase groans as he buries his face in his hands. "She already hates me."

"Why?"

"Chase threatened to run over her little dog with his wheels."

"I did not," Chase sputters in his defense. "It was the yappy little things tail and it deserved it."

Chase listens to House starting into the story about his run in with the cranky old tenant as he takes some of the roasted turnips; his frame settling back into his wheelchair as the room fills with friendly laughter at his expense. A few minutes later they all launch into their own run-ins with little dogs and the friendly evening is off to a great start; Chase's mind well on it's way to putting the trying ordeal behind him and looking forward to getting back on the right track to getting back on his feet with his new found family at his side every step of the way.

* * *

**A/N:** okay some more angsty stuff for our poor duckling as he went through his withdrawals and hope you liked House tending to his most precious patient and his flashback to when Chase was first stabbed. Had to end the angsty ordeal on a happier note with Bruno and Uncle Wilson rounding out the fab four for supper. Up next we'll get back to the rehab but it won't be all wine and roses for any of them (hey this is me and angst is my game haha) so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	17. Trust is a Priceless Commodity

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 17 – Trust is a Priceless Commodity**

**A/N: **Ah okay blame RL (dang seasonal spoilers are making me insane!) for almost not having a Tuesday update ready! But we pushed ourselves last night and this was born so hope its not weak and you all still like this story (wow 17 chaps already – you guys soooooooo rock!) give yourselves a pat on the back hehe okay times up now go read and review!

* * *

About an hour after supper, Chase leans against House's shoulder, his body starting to feel the ill effects of lack of sleep; his eyes struggling to stay open. He listens as House babbles on about some lame medical drama; smirking when the older man tries to explain to the actor playing the doctor on the screen why his patient wasn't responding.

"They're paid to just lie there," Chase quips as he opens an eye and looks up at House with a small smile.

"Well whoever wrote this should be fired. And I thought you were sleeping?" House lightly snaps as he looks back down at Chase who quickly closes his eyes and allows his mind to settle once more. As his body sags back into House's side, Chase allows his mind to think back to dinnertime and just how far the relative strangers had come in their familial bonding.

_'Uncle Wilson brought turnips and I expect you to have some,' House had told Chase firmly before he put a scoop of the roasted root vegetables on his plate and then offered a look that dared him to try to defy him._

_'And what about Cousin Bruno? Doesn't he get any?'_

_'A double helping for Cousin Bruno,' House retorted, putting some down on Bruno's plate while keeping a firm gaze locked with Chase's playfully daring one._

He remembers Bruno telling him how happy he felt to finally be a part of a family unit that cared about him and that he cared about. He loved his mother but sometimes because it was just the two of them he didn't feel apart of anything out of the ordinary – his team not that cohesive; that is until House invited him into their inner sanctum. Now he says he can't thank Dr. House enough for making him feel part of their family unit. In that moment, Chase reminded him that since he was rescued from his father's high priced prison the four of them become a family of sorts – sometimes even closer than four actual blood relatives. But he had agreed with Bruno, admitting that his childhood was also strained and this was the first time ever that he actually felt a part of something – the family he always wanted but never had. In his time of need it was House who had stepped up and made the biggest impact on him and that was something he might never be able to repay. House had replaced, in his mind and heart, Rowan Chase. His birth father all but gone – at least for now physically.

"I'm…staying…" Chase's lips mutter in his dream state as House turns down the volume on the TV and looks to his right, offering the younger man's sleeping face a tender smile before he frowns at Chase's rather odd statement. "No father…want…to stay…please…"

House's hand gingerly reaches out and rests on Chase's forehead to see if he was indeed dreaming or if this was delirious residue; normal. He notices Chase's brow lessen under his touch and his lips smile.

"Want…to stay…stay with House…" he whispers as his body folds closer into the protective warmth that House's frame was offering, his legs stretched out before him and half his frame twisting at his waist.

"You can stay as long as you want," House whispers in return as he reaches for a small blanket and pulls it over Chase's frame; not wanting to wake the younger man after the fitful night of sleep they had both endured the night before. Not caring about the light to his left, House allows himself to sink down further on the couch and close his eyes, his body calling to him to also get some rest as he wouldn't be allowed to play hookie the following day. His mind also drifts back to the most enjoyable evening the four of them spent around the table; eating, laughing, talking and further strengthening the bonds of close friendship and burgeoning family that would endure. And as he too drifts into darkness, a small smile starts to play upon his face.

However it wouldn't last as a few hours later, both of them are awoken by Chase's very audible gasp; House pulling himself from his slumber to look down to see Chase almost gasping for breath.

"Just breathe Robert," House's voice directs as he strokes the younger man's back as Chase's chest heaves for fresh air.

"I saw…" he stops as he tries to clear the tormented vision out of his mind. Hearing House say his name in private, as opposed to 'Chase' even around Bruno and of course in public, has an instant calming effect on him as he closes his eyes and tries to get his heart rate to calm. "Hurts…chest hurts," he states suddenly as he flops back on the couch and looks up at House with a sweat-dotted frown.

"It's a small panic attack from the nightmare. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Think of ducky eating all your turnips."

Chase's grimace morphs into a strained smile as he tries to picture the rather absurd scene in his mind; his lungs starting to reach for normal breaths instead of the painful gasps he was having a few minutes earlier. "I keep seeing…_him_," Chase utters with a sad confession. "He just laughs at my failure and pain."

"It will pass," House tries to assure him.

"Not soon enough," Chase groans as he tries to roll onto his side; his eyes fixed on the black TV screen as House's hand once again rests on his forehead. "Worried for nothing right?"

"He won't hurt you again," House states in a quiet tone.

"How do you know?" Chase looks up in wonder.

"You need to trust me when I say you will be fine. Now close your eyes and get some real sleep," House gently instructs.

Chase doesn't reply, merely allows his weary eyelids to fall back and rest on flushed cheeks and his head to slump down onto the small pillow that House had shoved under his cheek. House studies the expression on his beloved ducklings face and frowns; his mind recalling a conversation he had with Wilson a few days ago.

_'Who told you he's dying from cancer?'_

_'He did. A few months back. Terminal cancer.'_

_'Does Robert know?'_

_'Does he need to?'_

_'House it's not up to you to play god with people's lives.'_

_'Why not? That's what I'm paid to do.'_

_'Robert is not just some unfamiliar patient in a strange hospital bed; you've brought him into your home. You care about him. He needs to know the truth.'_

_'Why? The truth doesn't always set you free.'_

"The truth would only hurt him further," House whispers as he looks down and notices Chase's face crunch up slightly and his offers an expression of concern. _Rowan Chase is my burden to bear, along with all his evils; Robert is free of that now. _Without making much of a fuss, he slowly pushes himself up off the couch and turns off the light, reaching for the blanket on the chair and gently draping it over Chase's sleeping frame, careful not to wake him. He slowly leaves the room, flipping off the hall light and offering an angry but whispered curse in Rowan's name just before he disappears into his own bedroom; Chase's eyes fluttering open at that moment before sinking back into darkness until morning.

XXXXXXXX

House awakens early the next morning and heads into the living room only to stop in place and offer the scene before him a small gasp. Chase must have fallen off the couch in the middle of the night and instead of waking him to help him get back on, had taken the pillow and blanket with him; his body curled on the floor and a peaceful look in his boyish face.

House's face softens as he watches Chase's eyes slowly open and look up, his body trying to stretch out as he yawns and then smiles.

"Help I've fallen and I can't get up," Chase lightly snickers as House nears him.

"Maybe tonight instead of Twister we can play charades? You're a mop," houses teases as he slinks down into the couch and looks down at Chase on the floor. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better after I feel down here," Chase huffs as his arms fold under his head and he looks away with a small frown and then back up at House who was watching him in interest. "I'm okay."

"You're better than okay," House replies lightly as his hand comes away from Chase's forehead and cheek; the younger man feeling a normal temperature. "What's the plan for today?"

"I think I'll go stir crazy if I just stay here but not sure I should be pushing myself so soon after a run in with drugs. I don't want to go into cardiac arrest before poor Bruno."

"I'm always just a call away," House reminds him as Chase looks back up in surprise. "But don't push yourself. Bruno will understand and be there tomorrow. If you want to take the day and rest and then start again tomorrow, trust me Bruno will be there waiting."

"Okay I…" Chase starts only to have House lean down and gently rest his hand on his chest.

"Just rest a bit longer," House instructs him kindly.

Chase watches House leave and starts to ponder the day ahead. But as he takes a deep breath and feels a small twinge of pain in his heart and chest he knows that to push himself with his physio – even as basic as it might be in Bruno's gentle and skilled hands might put undue pressure on his recuperating body and deal him a further setback.

His mind settles that he's just going to take the day to rest up as much as he can and then make dinner for the two of them and get an early start on the night; hoping to wake up tomorrow, well rested and ready to get back on track.

"Up you come," House tells Chase as he reenters the living room and grabs Chase under the armpits and helps him back up into his wheelchair. "So what's the verdict Dr. Chase?"

"Think I'll stay home and play maid today Dr. House," Chase replies with a small smile. "I want to keep going but I feel tired and don't want to fall asleep on the floor before poor Bruno."

"I think I have an apron around here that is just your size," House quips as the two of them slowly head into the kitchen and head to their respective stations; House turning around after a few minutes of silence start to grow. He looks at Chase, who has his back to him and is just staring at the coffee maker. Without waiting for an invitation to play a game, House's hands quickly cover Chase's eyes before they open; a small smile starting to form on Chase's lips.

"Is it still a coffee maker?" House tosses playfully as Chase nods in agreement. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"They're worth at least a quarter," Chase retorts as House's hands retort back to their sides and he carries on with his task of pouring each of them a mug of coffee.

"He's gone back to his world for good," House's voice reminds Chase in a firm but kind tone. "Time for you to work on getting back to yours. You can't play House maid for the rest of your life."

"Don't have the legs for it?"

"You cut your hair," House winks as Chase's lips purse as he chuckles.

"You know you could always get a wig," Chase counters seriously.

"Now where's the fun in that?" House grins in return. The two of them enjoy a rather casual breakfast and talk about the rest of the remaining week and whether or not they would chance another outing on the weekend. "Could always go to the zoo again?"

"How about I pick this time?"

"Why do you have a sinister look?" House looks at Chase in suspect.

"Who me? I'm innocent," Chase chuckles as House looks at him dryly. "Okay I was thinking…"

"I don't mind being surprised," House quickly interjects, feeling a small stab of pain when Chase's once jubilant expression had threatened to turn downcast. But as soon as House implies that he's game, Chase's face once again brightens and he assures House that he will take them someplace that would be fun and they'd both enjoy the meal.

"Is it safe to leave you home alone?"

"I assure that if I need help I know who to call."

"Quick what's the number for 9-1-1?" House teases as he heads for the front door about twenty minutes later and prepares to leave.

"I used to live on my own at one time you know," Chase reminds him with playful expression.

"Yeah but this his funner," House winks before he offers a small see you later and ducks out into the hallway; Chase silently agreeing before he closes the door, locks it and then turns and starts to wheel himself toward his bedroom. But just before he enters his bedroom, the phone rings and not having been told he couldn't answer the phone he heads for it and reaches for the phone, not really noticing the number.

"Robert House," Chase jokingly answers the phone with a happy smile.

_"Robert…who?"_

For a split second, Chase is whisked back a week when he answered the phone only to be browbeaten by his father which then sent him on a downward spiral that forced him to be once again rescued by his new protector.

_"Dr. Robert Chase? Sorry if I sounded cut off there but..."_

The voice, however, isn't his fathers and so thankfully he's able to snap back to reality in seconds and carry on talking to the assistant for his own personal doctor and hang up with a small sigh instead of a mind and heart racing with anxiety. But as he hangs up the phone he makes a mental plan to always look at the number before he answers the next time and to answer with a proper greeting and spare himself the anxiety.

Chase hangs up the phone and then heads back into his bedroom and reaches for his phone, looking at his father's number and wondering if he should delete it once and for all.

_'My father cut me out of his will. Wants nothing more to do with me. Never wants to see me again.'_

He remembers Bruno telling him how his father left him and his mother for another woman because he wasn't in love with his mother anymore but said that when she fell ill and Bruno called him, he did come over and even gave Bruno some money before he left. _My father helped me, guess that still kinda makes him okay right? _Bruno had asked.

"My father curses my existence," Chase mutters glumly into the stillness of the room as he looks back down at the phone. But House was right, it was up to himself to let his father go permanently and take back his mental sanity for good. Chase's eyes linger on the 'delete contact' button before he finally pushes it and then presses 'yes' to confirm. He carefully sets his phone down and turns and wheels out of the room, his eyes starting to well from emotional turmoil.

XXXXXXXX

"Am almost afraid to ask," Wilson inquires as he enters House's office with a small frown.

House quickly closes the file on Rowan's face and looks up at Wilson with a daring expression.

"You can't let it go can you?"

"How do you know I'm not?"

"Because I know you too well. You might be able to fool everyone else around you but not me. What happened?"

"Actually it's my own personal file and I'm closing it – for good."

"He called right? With an update? House you have to tell Chase about his father having terminal cancer."

But when House merely leans back in his chair and looks at his best friend in wonder Wilson folds his arms over his chest and glares right back. "You told him?"

"Aren't you busy?"

"Don't tell me you don't think he has cancer? Who'd make that up?"

"Is that rhetorical?" House retorts. "Everybody lies. Or should I remind you of Sarah Benson."

"Okay fine so that was…Robert trusts you now and I can see the fond affection he has for you and you have for him in return. It's very mutual to everyone. You dote on him as if…he were your…own s…oh I get it," Wilson's voice dies out as his arms unfold and his hand shove in his pockets. "You want him to stay with you don't you?"

"I'm busy. Leave now I'm pulling out the Twister mat."

"If it's true he has the right to know. If he leaves to be with him, you can't be the one to stop that because if his father dies and you didn't tell him but knew all this time you could still lose him."

"You want to be red?"

"You can't play with his emotions like this."

"It's my burden to bear."

"I get the reasoning but you have to tell him."

"How about green? Green's more your color."

"Fine," Wilson huffs as he turns and slowly heads out of House's office; House looking back down at the file and narrowing his eyes.

"The truth hurts us all," House whispers before he reaches for the phone.

XXXXXXXX

"Doesn't smell like roast duckling in here," House calls out early that evening as he opens the door to his apartment and is instantly greeted with a very aromatic smell; something comforting that instantly calms the agitation that had accompanied him all the way home. He knows inside that Robert will find out about his father and he would say that he didn't know. _Robert is healing and doesn't need to subject himself to his father's unfortunate plight. Rowan doesn't care about his son! Robert would be wasting his time and affection, _House's mind tried to reason. _But it's his natural father and he's a full grown man and therefore up to him to decide whether he's wasting his time and affection, _Wilson's voice would argue back – his very own inner voice of conscience and reason.

"Roast mallard?" Chase retorts with a warm smile as he turns and looks at House at the entranceway to the kitchen. "Figured when I finished all my maid duties I'd try my hand at supper – again."

"Doesn't smell burnt."

"I think this time might just be edible," Chase replies with a small grin as House pulls out the medium sized roasting pan and pulls off the lid. Chase waits in expectation, his eyes watching House's every facial expression to know whether or not he had done a good job. "Well?"

"Let's eat," House states loudly as he gives Chase what Wilson would call him on – a rather strained smile. But as he would quickly come to realize, Wilson wasn't the only one who had gotten to know some of his facial expressions.

"Tough day?" Chase inquires as they slowly make their way to the table; supper about to be consumed.

"It all started with Taub," House answers in haste; Chase listening but wondering with the sound of House's somewhat choppy replies of he was holding something back or if indeed it was just a strained day. But he decides to give House the benefit of the doubt and just enjoy the somewhat overcooked meat – it being roast chicken and not actual duck.

"Give that back!" House snatches the remote from Chase about an hour after supper as they rest on the couch watching another lame TV movie.

"What was wrong with that one?"

"Your remote privileges have been revoked young man," House smirks as he lands on their next program of choice.

"The Real Housewives of New Jersey? House you can't be serious. There's nothing real about them," Chase groans.

"They have nice boobs," House retorts as Chase rolls his eyes and tries to reach for the remote, House moving it out of his reach and Chase pulling back with a pout. "Not falling for it. I know you like watching their boobies too."

Chase's lips offer a snicker at House's lewd expression as he tries to reach for the remote once more. But he twists a bit too sharply and suddenly his face morphs into a grimace; something House is quick to notice. "Turned too...sharply," Chase huffs as he slumps back down his right hand rubbing the middle of his right thigh. But after a few seconds of silence he looks up to see House looking down in wonder. "What?"

"Feeling that was progress."

"You're a sadist," Chase playfully accuses. "Maybe I should just lie here and let you beat me so I get some feeling back into my legs."

"Whip or chain?" House teases as Chase purses his lips. "Is the pain still there?"

"No it was just a twinge," Chase answers in truth as he looks back down at his legs. "They're anxious to get walking again also."

"Still need to find my outlet plugs," House offers with a mock serious expression; Chase taking advantage of his relaxed grip and snatching the remote out of his hand. "My duckling is really asking for it."

"Maybe I'm a glutton for punishment," he counters with a snicker as House wags his brows. The two of them enjoy another hour of playful banter before Chase's yawns start to increase and its time to bring the long day to a close.

"Goodnight," House whispers as he places the rubber ducky back beside Chase's bedside table and then turns off the light, slowly leaving the room and smiling as he hears Chase whisper goodnight in return.

_Robert will find out the truth; someone will call him – you know that._

House tries to push aside Wilson's truthful warning as he allows his eyes to rest on the picture of the two of them with funny faces taken by Wilson a year ago and feels his lips trying to tug upward. But as he allows a rather dejected looking Chase to enter his mind, his warm blue eyes accusing him of withholding information his smile fades and his heart sinks.

_If I tell Robert the truth I could lose him. What if he goes back to Australia and decides to stay? My selfishness has its reasons. _But as he ponders the word selfish he feels guilt once again starting to consume him and quickly pulls his eyes away from the picture and hobbles over to his bed and slumps down.

"I can't lose him," House utters as the room fades to black.

XXXXXXXX

"I can't believe I'm actually nervous again."

"Blame the ducklingnappers," House retorts as he takes a sip of his coffee early the next morning. Both had gotten up; Chase in too good a mood for House to even think about broaching the subject of his horrible father once more – even if it was to tell him the insufferable SOB was dying from cancer. _I'll tell him tomorrow – maybe._

"Damn ducklingnappers," Chase snickers as House hands him his lunchbox. "Ah I missed this."

"Banged out the dent myself," House teases with a proud smile.

"Quite good actually. I'm impressed," Chase teases in return. House watches with growing affection as Chase wheels over to the counter and starts to make himself a modest lunch, talking about the day ahead and how he wanted to do something nice for Bruno in return. "Maybe a pair of baseball tickets. For you know when I can walk…again," his tone softens as he looks at House in wonder. "You do want me to walk again right?" Chase playfully goads.

"You're a lot tastier like this."

"Funny. You've been distracted as of late. What's up?"

"Work. Speaking of which I need to go. See you later at the bus stop. Oh and Robert…"

"I know don't get onto the bus with ducklingnappers," Chase smiles as House gives him a serious nod. "Yes Sir."

Chase watches House take his leave and then turns and heads back to the kitchen to finish off his lunch and then head into his bedroom to get dressed for the day. His lips offer a small smirk as he looks at his closet, his mind musing about how he likes going out with House because he gets to wear something other than sweatpants.

"Ridiculous," Chase converses with himself as he pulls on a dark sweatshirt; goes back in search of his lunchbox and then heads out the door.

"Good morning Dr. Chase," Charlie, the handicapped bus driver greets Chase as he slowly wheels himself onto the bus that would take him to PPTH.

"Morning Charlie."

"Dr. Chase I must apologize for what happened a few days ago. I tried to call you but they wouldn't give me your home number," the older man looks at Chase with an apologetic expression. "What happened with that whole ordeal?"

"Just a few punks on a joy ride. Got a few bumps and bruises but Dr. House took good care of me."

"He's a good man and cares a lot about you. Am just happy to see you up and around," Charlie tells Chase in truth; the heartfelt words settling Chase's heart and mind. The two of them make small talk all the way to Princeton-Plainsboro; the bus coming to a gentle stop and Charlie telling Chase he'll be there at 4pm with security outside as per their new routine of watching the bus stop since the busjacking incident.

"Hey Dr. Chase," Bruno greets him with a warm smile. "You here for lunch again?"

"Me and ducky are right on time," Chase pats his metal lunchbox and then slowly wheels past Bruno and into the lunch room. He slowly opens the lid but just as he starts into his food he feels his stomach starting to get a bit agitated and carefully puts the rest of his food back into the belly of the tin box and wheels to the doorway entrance to the kitchen.

He looks out and fixes his gaze upon a young man about his age; his arms fixed on the two skinny parallel beams and his legs slowly swinging out in front of him. His fingers instantly curl around the handles of the wheelchair bars and his heart starts to beat a bit faster. But he doesn't realize that his downcast expression also registers on the heart of a hidden onlooker; Chase not seeing House watching from the other side of the far door.

"Ready Dr. Chase?" Bruno's voice breaks into his thoughts, drawing Chase's gaze in his direction.

"Yes," Chase almost whispers before he slightly clears his throat before he leaves his place and wheels to where his spot was; his senses still not picking up his concerned watcher.

Chase allows Bruno to help him out of the wheelchair and onto the floor; his mind however, not as focused on the task at hand as it should be.

"We'll start slow to get you warmed up after your few days rest," Bruno tells Chase in a low tone as he moves himself into position, takes his right leg into his grasp and starts to bend it toward his chest, holding it until Chase tells him he feels some tingling in his foot and then pulls back.

"How's that feel?"

"Good," Chase replies with a small huff as Bruno straightens Chase's right leg and then bends it again; doing a set of five reps before switching to the left leg. Chase mutters something else before he once again turns back to look at the young man trying to walk, his mind angry that his own progress now seems lagging.

"You here with me Dr. Chase?" Bruno's warm voice pulls Chase's gaze back to him with a small frown.

"Yes of course sorry," Chase nods as he tries to focus on Bruno instead of his own misery.

"Because if something hurts you let me know."

"It doesn't hurt!" Chase snaps, his sharp tone forcing Bruno to pause and House's eyes to slightly narrow as he leans in closer to hear what was going on with his distraught duckling. "Bruno, I'm sorry," Chase apologizes as he feels for making them a spectacle to the few people in the room.

"Does it hurt really? I will stop if it does."

"No…no it doesn't hurt," Chase groans as his arms fold over his chest and he looks away in frustration. "Please continue."

"You sure?"

"Yes," Chase nods softly as Bruno picks up his right leg once again and starts into his second set of five leg bends. Chase feels all the tingling in his feet and somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice is reminding him that he's making progress, this is the first week and to just be patient. But he can't. He tries to listen to the pleasant small talk that Bruno is trying so desperately to fill the void with but inside he can only hear his father's mocking tone that he's never going to amount to much and to stop wasting everyone's time. _You'll never walk again Robert, why even bother trying? Is it to get more attention from Dr. House? _

"Dr. Chase?" Bruno's voice tries to break into his morbid stupor and bring him back to reality.

Chase's angry watery gaze turns back, his mouth opens but he says nothing.

"You don't want be here do you?" Bruno asks in wonder.

"I just want to walk already!" Chase growls as he looks away, muttering something under his breath.

"Alright then," Bruno nods softly.

Before he can offer a sincere apology, and much to his surprise, Chase feels movement by his feet and quickly looks back to see Bruno get up and walk away; disappearing around the corner.

"Bruno?" Chase asks in shock as he raises himself up to his elbows and stares incredulously at the empty space; offering a whispered curse in his name as House looks at him in shock.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so I planted a few small seeds of doubt in Chase's mind and played a bit more of the Rowan/cancer thing – not sure where they'll go as I'm not sure how long this story will go (I guess as long as you all don't get bored!) so what did you think of that angle? And what about the ending? Where has Bruno gone? Has Chase pushed the boundaries of their friendship a little too far? Would love your thoughts so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	18. Back to Basics?

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 18 – Back to Basics?**

* * *

House watches Chase flop back down to the floor, his fists balling at his sides as they strike the mat he's lying on and he ponders for a second marching up to Bruno and telling him not to leave Robert like that. But at the same time telling Robert that he wasn't to snap at people in public. _Children! _But as always his inner voice of reason wins out, reminding him that both were fully grown men and would need to work this out on their own and maybe Bruno had a plan.

_No Jell-O tonight, _House's mind inwardly quips as he fixes on Chase's defeated expression and feels his heart starting to sink. He couldn't fault him for being jealous of the other young man on the walking beams but hopes that neither he nor Bruno had given up on the other or his schedule – they needed each other. That's why he chose Bruno…or thought he did. Bruno was tough but tender enough to deal with Chase's sometimes stubbornness but would keep him on track; he only wanted the best for Robert. So as he sees Bruno come back he knows he was right. _Father's always know best, _he inwardly boasts.

Chase lifts his weary head and offers Bruno a somewhat sheepish frown as he approaches with his wheelchair. But instead of watching Bruno resume his position at his feet, Chase's curious blue eyes watch as the large man slowly heads around to his head and gently scoops him up under his armpits and helps him back into his wheelchair. The day was over. Or was it?

"Bruno I'm sorry," Chase offers in haste. "I'm just frustrated and angry with myself and it was wrong of me to yell at you."

"I'm not angry at you Dr. Chase," Bruno insists. "Am used dealing with frustrated clients."

"But I consider you a friend."

"We all have bad days right?"

"Right. So same time tomorrow right?"

"Tomorrow? Today's not over yet."

"Where are we going?"

"You want to walk right?" Bruno asks as he nears the now free walking beams; Chase's eyes widening and his heart rate starting to rise. "The first week after my knees went and I went to Physio, a guy who I graduated with was there picking up his brother. Had some great news that he had been drafted by the NFL. He asked why I was there and I lied."

"You lied?" Chase dares to ask in a soft tone.

"I was embarrassed. I wanted to be him. He had my dream and I was stuck with the knowledge that I'd never be able to play ball again. I yelled at everyone around me and told off the physio guy. I just sat there in that waiting room and was convinced I was done. It had only been two days but I wanted a miracle. Wasn't gonna get one though. My physio guy came back and told me the same thing I'm gonna tell you right now, we gotta get back to basics."

"Basics?"

"Up you come," Bruno gently hoists Chase up onto his feet and positions him at the one end of the walking beams and then let's go.

"Bruno?" Chase asks as nervous anxiety suddenly seizes him.

"I saw you watching that other patient…"

"And the first day I started here you told me not to and I broke the cardinal rule," Chase resigns.

"But you want to be him right?" Bruno lightly challenges.

"I want to walk. Bruno?"

"Take a step. Just swing your legs," Bruno instructs. "I won't let you fall."

Chase's hands grip the two bars in their grasp, wrapping around them so tightly that his fingers start to hurt. "I can't."

"Sure you can. Swing your legs."

Chase's brain tells his hips to swing his legs, even a small twist to get him to move an inch – nothing. But a few moments later he feels his arms wanting to buckle and his chest starting to heave slightly and his heart offer a small twinge and his panic soars. "Hurts," Chase whispers as Bruno quickly steps in and gently grabs him, helping him back into his wheelchair and sitting down beside him.

"I wanted to get to my old self just to show my friend that I was in just as good as shape as him. My physio guy took me over to the leg weights, sat me down and told me to lift. We both knew I couldn't. Had I done that I might have never walked at all. He put me on the highest level of physio to show me that I wasn't ready and for me not to compare myself to anyone else; it wasn't fair to my progress."

"I just want to walk," Chase admits in a tormented tone; House not able to clearly hear all the words but judging by the look on Chase's face the test Bruno just put him through was very sobering. "I saw him walking and…yeah I wanted to be him."

"I'll let you in on a little secret. This is his fourth week."

"Fourth?"

"He started with the basics. Strengthening the legs, getting them used to movement and then the upper body. It has to do most of the work in keeping you upright and he never had surgery so started into the weights a bit sooner. I'm sorry Dr. Chase but if I had just told you you weren't ready for this stage yet it wouldn't have worked. I had to show you for yourself."

"Smart man."

"Ah that one belongs to Dr. House, he said you were stubborn but not to give in or give up. I'm here to help you walk and am not going to leave you until you can walk out of here on your own."

"Thank you."

"You ready to get back to basics?"

"I am."

House watches with a proud smile as Bruno wheels Chase back to the mat, gently lowers him back down and starts right back into the leg exercises, Chase's outward expression showing to all that he was ready to get back to work. With that happy thought House turns and heads back to his office to finish the day and then meet Chase at the bus.

"My father's negative voice is always in my head," Chase mentions as Bruno starts working on the left leg. "I guess sometimes I still hear my father's voice…it's always negative, telling me I can't do it and it feeds my frustration."

"We won't let you fail."

"And I feel guilty for my outburst," Chase huffs as his mind pictures his father's frowning face. "Am sorry I yelled."

"Well if it'll make you feel better I'll say I accept but I wasn't mad. I totally get it."

"Still wasn't right. I just want to walk."

"You will," the larger man replies with a friendly smile. "Okay am gonna give you a few tips that will make next week's turn with the weights a bit easier."

"I'm all ears."

XXXXXXXX

"Thank you," House hangs up the phone and looks down at his notes. Cancer. Rowan Chase has terminal cancer. Confirmed. Part of him wished the news was false, giving him free reign to call the elder Doctor Chase and browbeat him for even thinking of pulling such a cruel scam on his son. Lambasting him for wanting only attention in return; something he always accused his son of. But it wasn't a scam. Rowan was dying and by the sounds of it from his doctor, there wasn't much time at all, maybe a few months. He leans back in his chair and then looks at a picture of him and Chase; but instead of a smile a frown appears and his mind races.

_'I need to tell you something in confidence Dr. House,' _his mind recalls a brief conversation with Rowan not too long ago.

_'You're really a woman? I'd sue whoever told you the operation would work,' _House had quipped in return. But when Rowan's expression remained dark and clouded he knew something was up. For a few split seconds he wondered if Rowan was now coming to take Robert back to practice medicine in Melbourne, telling him thanks for giving my son a chance but at least now he'll be back where he belongs. No it wasn't that. The fantasy would remain unreal. The truth, however, would be far more serious.

_'I have cancer. Terminal.'_

_'Does Robert know? Because last time I checked he's the one with the same last name.'_

_'No he doesn't know and you're not to tell him.'_

_'Then why did you tell me?'_

Why indeed. Rowan never gave him a satisfying answer but the longer he looks at the happy innocence on Robert's face in the photograph he finds himself wanting more and more to call Rowan, put him on speaker at the same time Robert was there and trick him into telling his son – absolving him of the knowledge he now worries about carrying.

"Damn you Rowan," House whispers as he gets up from his chair and goes in search of Foreman, knowing that pushing his buttons would at least take away the inner angst of dealing with when to tell Chase the news about his father or not.

XXXXXXXX

"Same bat time, same bat place," Bruno teases as Chase looks at him with a small frown. "Oh you gotta remember the old lame bat man episodes."

"They're as old as House, how am I supposed to remember?" Chase lightly snickers in return.

"I'll tell him you said that," Bruno counters as he helps Chase arrange himself back in his wheelchair to head out to meet House at the bus stop.

"He'll never believe you. I have an innocent face," Chase retorts with a proud nod. The two of them share a few more laughs before it's time to call it a day; Bruno having one more client and then heading home.

"No ducklingnappers today," Chase mentions as he wheels up to House at the bus stop outside.

"How do you know I'm not the ring leader?" House smirks as he looks down at Chase's flushed face. "Rough day?"

"It started out that way," Chase explains; House's face offering a mock sincere expression of wonder as he had already witnessed the verbal outburst.

"Did you upset Bruno?"

"Not on purpose. Well maybe on purpose. But not purposely on purpose," Chase rambles as they slowly head onto the handicapped bus, ready for the ride home. "I saw a man there about my age and as I was lying there on the floor all I could hear was my father's voice telling me I'd never walk again and laughing at me."

"He's a party pooper," House retorts with a small chirp.

"I wish I could let go of the negative voices inside my head," Chase replies as he looks out the window with a stony gaze; House's eyes fixed on the tightness of his jaw. "I deleted his number from my phone," the younger man confesses with a sad tone, House's eyes slightly widening but then returning to normal when Chase turns back to face him.

"He's still fresh in your mind. It'll pass...hopefully."

"I think the day I finally walk out of here on my own I'll call him and say I told you so and just hang up."

"You deleted the number."

"Oh my cell phone," Chase counters as House nods.

"Let it go," House instructs in a kind tone as they near their apartment building. "So how is Bruno?" House inquires, not knowing that the innocent question would quickly lead to his own mental demise.

"He's fine. I feel bad for taking liberties with our friendship like that. I know he has a job to do and I didn't trust him and you always told me if you can't trust the person helping you then…"

"What good is friendship," House chimes in; a hint of sour in his tone. "Bruno has a thick skin."

"I still feel bad. But he was right and I learned my lesson. I guess your open honesty really got to him."

_Honesty? _House's mind whirls at the use of the word. "Explain," House lightly huffs as they both say goodnight to Charlie the bus driver and head into their apartment building.

"I wanted to walk and I was angry I couldn't – yet. Bruno took me to the beams and showed me just how not ready I really am. He didn't lie or dance around it or say something to make me feel better and he said you told him that. So thank you. I guess I was just frustrated because I keep hearing my father's negative voice. After all his lies it's nice to hear the straight up truth…" Chase's voice dies out as he pulls away and disappears into his room; House remaining in place a few moments longer.

_'You have to tell Robert the truth. He trusts you, don't break that trust,' _Wilson's voice whispers in his head. House's mind wages an internal battle. Telling Robert now after such a trying day might put a damper on the evening. Waiting though could be worse as he wasn't sure how long he could withhold the truth. Chase spouted off about his honesty. Keeping the truth from him longer would shatter that feeling. What if Chase found out on his own? Found out that he knew and was keeping such an important secret from him? It would do more damage than if he just sucked down his own selfish thoughts, told him and then be the shoulder for Robert to lean on in case he needed it.

_'What if he goes to Melbourne?' House had asked Wilson after he told Wilson that he confirmed Rowan was dying of cancer._

_'Chase does not love his father, you know that as well as I do, if not more so.'_

_'He could be motivated by guilt. I know some people are.'_

_'He could. But what if you don't tell him and Rowan dies and then Robert decides he wants to go down there anyways and take over his father's practice? Either way the truth is going to hurt both of you but it has to come out sooner rather than later.'_

_'I hate when you're right.'_

But Wilson was right. There were some burdens that he would have to bear alone and some that he would have to share and hope for the best.

_'I don't want to lose him Wilson. I care too much.'_

_'You won't. He cares to. But show him how much you care by telling him the truth. The longer you wait the worst it'll be – for you.'_

With a heavy sigh and an inward curse in Wilson's name, House leaves his spot by the door and heads for Chase's room, slowly entering it and walking up to the younger man with a heavy frown.

Chase turns around with a smile, but that smile instantly fades as he notices the serious look on House's face. "Look if there's…" Chase starts only to have House gently pry the sweater from his hands and place it on the bed a few feet from where he eases himself down.

"We need to talk."

"Ok-ay," Chase replies slowly as he completely turns himself around and looks at House in wonder; the older man's face a contrast of concern and regret. "Bruno complained about me?"

"Yes and you deserve a spank," House tries to playfully retort, his voice, however, sounding strained and his lips exhaling. "No, this isn't about Bruno and rehab. It's about you."

"Me?"

"And your father."

"My…father? As in Rowan Chase?"

"Yes your real father as opposed to your pretend father."

"House what's going on?" Chase quickly implores. "He's called you hasn't he? He still wants my license revoked? I'm sure that he…"

"Hush a second," House whispers as he pulls his finger back from Chase's lips. "Your father told me that he…he's dying from cancer."

"What? What kind?"

"Lung. It's…stage four. Terminal," House adds although very well aware that Chase knows the stages of cancer.

"This is a joke right?"

"Almost wish it was."

Chase looks at House and knows that as much of a jokester House likes to be and as much as he likes to toss around medical jargon or sometimes make light of someone's ailment, the look on his face right now is telling Chase that this is the truth – as awful and painful as it is to be told and heard. It is the truth. He's father's dying.

"He's dying…of cancer? And he told you," Chase states more than asks, his mind racing as he looks away and gives his head a small shake. "How long have you known?"

"I confirmed today that its terminal."

"When did you first find out? When did he tell you?"

"Sometime ago."

"But you said…"

"I said I confirmed today, not found out today. I'm not that trusting when it comes to the elder Doctor Chase and wanted to be sure," House replies in truth. But as he sees Chase's eyes starting to softly glisten his posture sag House's heart threatens to shatter.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because Rowan told me."

"So he told you…my father told you he's dying of cancer. He didn't tell me and you knew and then suddenly have a crisis of conscience today and decided what the hell I'll finally tell Robert his father's dying of cancer because he's already had a crap day I'll just add more on to it."

"I was waffling."

"Not the topic to waffle on!" Chase lightly snaps as he pulls back. "Why wouldn't _he _tell me the same time he told you?"

"I don't know."

"Is that the truth?"

"None of my business is what he said," House replies matter of factly.

"Why didn't _you_ tell me as soon as you found out?"

"I don't know," House replies with a small whisper. "To be honest I was going to wait."

"Until what? After he died?"

"Yes," House replies with a tense tone as Chase feels his eyes wanting to well further. It wasn't that he was filled with instant remorse and wanted to rush off to his father's side, it was that he was now being told life altering knowledge by someone who had known about it for a while.

"Why did you wait? Why…damn it House why didn't you tell me as soon as you found out?"

"You think I like telling you that dear old dad who made your life a living hell is dying of terminal cancer now let's get back to work? I might take delight in some people's misery, just not yours," House stammers as Chase's jaw hardens. "Wanted to spare you the pain," House whispers as his fingers dare to reach out and brush away a lone tear as it escapes the corner of Chase's glistening sapphire pools and slides down toward his stubble clad cheek. "Sorry."

"You kept the truth from me!" Chase states "You aren't God. You can't just play with people's lives and feelings and emotions like that. Damn you!"

House looks at Chase's expression turn from sorrow to anger and now wonders if he did do the right thing. _At least I can blame Wilson if my wombat stays mad at me. _But as much as he tries to find delight in his witty internal remark the longer he looks at Chase's dejected expression he can't. _I did this…I caused him this pain…I'm to blame for this, _his heart laments as he looks at Chase's face.

"Go," Chase demands with a soft hiss. "I want to be alone."

House gives him a nod; his right hand giving his Chase's nearest leg a small squeeze before he gets up off the bed and heads into the hallway, turning to see Chase's head bow into his hands and feeling his own frame sag against the doorframe.

"I don't care if it makes me sound like an insensitive bastard right now, but he doesn't deserve your pity or your sorrow, he never did," House states firmly as he turns to leave. "And he never deserved you."

Chase hears House's words and then silence; turning back to see an empty space looking back at him and hearing his own lips curse his father's name and then House's. Then his mind starts to wage an intense emotional battle.

_House lied to me._

_He wanted to protect me._

_If he really cared he would have told me sooner._

_He really does care and wanted to keep the pain away._

_He lied to me._

_My father lied to me._

"Everybody lies," Chase whispers as he looks over at his phone and reaches for it; his fingers fondling the small electronic device as his mind races with the thought of calling is father and demanding to know why he wouldn't mention something as important as dying from a terminal disease.

But instead he decides against it; placing the phone back on the dresser and instead reaching for his jacket; angrily pulling it up his arms and then heading for the door.

"Get out of the way House," Chase demands as he nears the door, stopping in the hallway and glaring at House in anger.

"He should have told you himself."

"You should have told me the moment you found out!"

"Maybe I should have but I didn't. Where are you going?"

"I need some time…alone. Please just move away from the door," Chase tries to demand.

"I don't want you alone right now."

"Oh so now you care? You take delight in crushing the feelings of others or maybe this is just a ploy at my helpless expense?"

"I'm not taking delight in this. I wanted to spare you any more pain," House explains in truth. "It was before the accident and I…"

"Didn't care!" Chase retorts sourly.

"Not like now," House answers mildly, wanting to get Chase to calm slightly.

"I need you to move out of the way."

"You want to yell at me?"

"Yes! I want to yell at…you…him…damn I HATE THIS!" Chase's voice bellows as his hands leave the wheels and rest back on the arm rails.

"Feel better?"

"No," Chase retorts firmly as his hands rub his weary face. "You can't just control…everyone…you told Bruno to show me I couldn't walk yet by making me try to walk?"

"Did it work?"

Chase looks at House with a cross expression before his hand return to the wheels as he moves a bit closer. "Move!"

"Where are you going?"

"Out…away…I just need some time alone. My father…I want to hate him right now but I can't," Chase admits in defeat. "Mock all you want but I just can't. Maybe that makes me weak or pathetic or a downright idiot then so be it."

"No. It makes you the better man," House whispers as he pulls the door open and steps out of the way.

Chase looks at House, his heart racing and his eyes burning; his brain saying one thing and his heart the exact opposite. A few seconds later he pushes past and enters the quiet hallway, heading for the elevator and disappearing inside just as House peers around the corner to see which floor his duckling was escaping to.

_My father is dying…after all that…he's dying…I should be calling to say see I told you so right? This is what all your stupid meddling and trying to control me gets you and pushing me away my entire life and in the end you'll die alone. Alone. _

He wheels himself into a quite corner of the empty common room and casts a stony gaze into the nighttime below. The one thing he always lamented in his years of medical practice was when a patient was forced to face the end alone. Knowing in that moment that they died unloved and taking their last breath without a caring witness. Could he do that to his birth father? _He's never been a real father to you._

Chase angrily wipes away a few tears, his mind racing with heated emotion that he was once again kept in the dark about something about his own personal life; as if everyone else around him had the upper hand and could only laugh at his ignorance.

"Why didn't he trust me?" Chase asks in a tormented whisper.

"It was never about trust," House's voice is heard as Chase looks up and watches as House's reflection comes into focus in the window. "Blame me all you want, I did what I thought best. And to be honest I figured he'd call you with the news himself. Or have a letter sent after the fact. But I didn't hold back from telling you because I don't trust you. Trust wasn't an issue."

Chase's eyes follow House as he moves around and then eases himself down onto a small stool before him, offering the younger man a sorrow filled expression.

"I never wanted this for you…because I do care."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"Because he never did," House replies in truth as Chase feels his teeth grit. "But in all fairness he honestly never said," House lightly shrugs.

"He might not have cared but at least he could have told me. I'm an adult and therefore would think I have earned a bit of that trust and respect; even if only as a professional college," Chase states in frustration. "Someone should have told me."

"That was his job as your natural father. As your pretend father I wanted to spare you. I guess we both failed."

Chase hears the torment in House's tone and feels his heart start to ache. "I still should have been told," Chase huffs as he slightly pulls back and turns away. But House's hand quickly grips the right arm rail of the wheelchair, making it difficult for Chase to turn full circle.

"So when my father was here…"

"Yes he was dying of cancer. He had opportunity to tell you, a few in fact but he chose to spend his time here tormenting you instead of talking to you like his son."

"If I had known I could have called him on it while he was here," Chase argues back. "You could have given me that."

"Figured you had enough to deal with. Being locked away in that gilded cage forced to think about something else your father was keeping from you would have been even more torture than you had to endure. I made a call."

"It was the wrong call."

"Maybe, but I made it and I would do it again if I had to."

Chase looks at House in surprise as House's face displays a heavy frown.

"Hate me if you want but I didn't keep the truth from you to be devious or to relish in the fact that I knew something rather life altering that you didn't. I wanted to spare you the pain. Looks like I've only caused more and for that I am sorry."

Chase watches House slowly get up and turn to leave, his eyes watering once more as his stomach tightens. "I don't hate you. I want to for not telling me sooner but…but I just can't. I can't," Chase offers in a soft whisper; House's eyes momentarily closing as his remains with his back to Chase and his heart settling on the small confession.

House turns back to Chase and offers him a small nod before he walks toward Chase, takes the reins of the wheelchair and starts to slowly push him back toward the elevator, Chase too emotionally exhausted to even think about putting his hands on the rims to stop House's actions. But as they enter his mind now wonders if he should call his father or not.

"Should I call him?" Chase asks in a deft whisper as they ride up in the belly of the steel box.

House looks down at the top of Chase's head and for a second wants to yell, "_no, he's an insensitive SOB and his death is well deserved! He treated you like crap you whole life and I will not lose you to him!" _But he knows to play the selfish card would be no better than Rowan and that wasn't fair to his beloved duckling.

_'Wilson I can't tell Robert.'_

_'You're afraid to lose him aren't you? You're afraid that if you tell him, he'll hop a plane and go down to be with him and maybe stay?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'That's not your call House and you know it. You know that stupid adage you always mock me for saying, if you love something let it go…'_

_'If it comes back it's yours and always will be? I hate when you say that.'_

_'That's because you hate to lose. You won't lose Robert. But telling him…letting him choose will give him something his natural father never did – honesty trust and genuine love. You owe him that.'_

_Damn you Wilson_, House's mind growls seconds before he answers. "I can't make this decision for you," House answers in truth as the steel box comes to a halt and they slowly head toward the doorway to their apartment; Chase looking up in wonder. House can only offer him a tender smile but remain silent. In truth it wasn't his choice to make. That was not Robert's for better or worse. House closes the door as Chase pulls away a few feet, his back still to House and House's mind racing as to what Chase will do next. _I can't lose him…not now…not after everything._

The silence starts to build as Chase disappears into his room, House's mind racing as to what the conversation between father and son would entail and if things would now change between him and Robert. He always liked the fact that with work especially he could control most things and come out on top, but this was new. He couldn't control Chase and he couldn't predict how the conversation would go between father and son nor the outcome. Now it was time to take a leap of faith, telling himself that Chase would get the facts and still remain where he is and allow House to continue in the role of growing surrogate father. The trouble was, House had lost his faith long ago. _I can't lose him. _

Chase reaches for his phone and frowns, having deleted the contact but knowing the number by heart. For a few seconds he waffles, the vindictive part telling him that his father deserves this fate for all his horrible cruelty over the years and even most recently toward him; but another part, the compassionate part wins out – reminding him that he's still a human being facing the end and for him to extend at least a few words of kindness while he still could, would work out better in the long run for him. It would right? _Would he even care that I'm calling? _

Chase's fingers gingerly press the buttons and then he finds himself holding his breath until the phone finally connects.

_"Hello?"_

"Father."

_"Robert?"_

* * *

**A/N: **Okay so yeah Bruno didn't go too far but how did you like his tactics? What did you think of House telling Chase about his father's cancer? And how do you think the convo between father and son is going to go? Would love your thoughts as always as its your golden reviews that have extended the story this long (also to those that alerted but have not commented yet would love some feedback as well) thanks!


	19. Reality Sets In

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 19 – Reality Takes Hold**

* * *

As soon as his father's voice comes to life in his head, Chase freezes for a few seconds, wondering why again he was calling his biological father. _He has cancer…terminal…you're calling…to say sorry? _It was lame at best but despite the fact he had been cruel to him his whole life, the man who helped give him life was handed an irreversible death sentence and what else was there really to say? Sorry would be it. _Keep it brief!_

"Uh yes…hello," Chase stammers as he tries to straighten up in his wheelchair, his mind racing as to what he'd say.

_"Well this is a surprise. What do you want?"_

The tone is stern, demanding, almost accusatory. Or maybe that was his nervous anxiety reading into it.

House watches from a distance, noticing Chase's jaw clench and his right hand tighten around the handle and narrows his gaze, wishing the elder doctor Chase was in the room so he could threaten to hit him with his cane if he didn't at least offer his son some cordial respect.

"I was calling because I heard…you have cancer. Terminal."

_"Who told you?"_

"Uh…does it matter wh…"

_"Who Robert?"_

"Dr. House."

_"He told you," comes the reply. Not a question, not a demand but more like a disappointed statement. "Why?"_

"Why didn't you tell me yourself?" Chase lightly demands. "Last time I checked we do share the same last name."

_"This is my issue to deal with."_

"Issue? You're dying of cancer."

_"And? I'd still like to know why Dr. House told you when I made it very clear that it wasn't his place to tell."_

"Then why did you tell him in the first place?" Chase argues back.

_"Maybe I should call and tell him that was my big mistake."_

"If you want I can put him on the phone right now and you can ask him yourself," Chase blurts out in haste.

_"You're there with him now?"_

"I live h…that's not the issue."

_"You've moved into his apartment? Really Robert? Are you up and about or still milking the wheelchair sympathy?"_

"I had a minor setback, how did we get off topic? Why didn't you tell me yourself?" Chase asks again in a softer tone, his anxiety continuing to gain momentum.

_"I just didn't."_

"Dr. House said it was well before my stabbing which means you knew when you were here. You could have told me then."

_"Would you have stayed in my care?"_

"Care?" Chase retorts with a small scoff, being rewarded with an audible, almost scolding sigh which makes his tone instantly lower. "I was getting good care. My care isn't the issue here."

_"I didn't tell you because I chose not to. Do I feel bad about it? No, why should I? This affects my life."_

"I'm not asking to make you feel guilty, I was just…I was told you're dying and wanted to…you told a stranger and not your own son. Even as a professional colleague you could have told me so that I could have…"

_"Offered your condolences?" Rowan retorts firmly._

"Yes," Chase replies in a quiet tone. "In a way. You owed me that much."

_"Owed you? Why?"_

"Because…you're my father."

House listens to the one-sided conversation and feels his anger starting to surge. Even now…near the end of his life Rowan Chase still couldn't offer his only son even a small glimpse of compassion or empathy or even to say that at one time in his life he gave a damn and made him proud.

_"Oh so you want back into the will?"_

"What? The will…you thought that's why I called?" Chase asks with gritted teeth, his eyes welling out of anxiety and not sorrow. "No I don't care about that. I…"

_"You will after I'm gone and you have nothing. You think House will put up with you mooching off him for very long?"_

"This is not about him. He…"

_"He told you when I asked him not so yes it's about him. I could have told you but I didn't."_

"I trust you're getting good care then?" Chase mentions stiffly as he shakes his head and starts to wonder why he even called. "That's why I called. Just to say…I know and um…well I'm sorry I guess."

_"I am getting good care."_

"And for the record I will be walking again soon and was told by Dr. House I can stay with him as long as I want. If that makes me a trusting mooch then so be it. At least I feel like I'm wanted." He didn't care if it sounded childish he had to let his father know at least once that he felt inside himself that he was valued and cared about; it was the only thing at the moment saving his emotional sanity.

House can only shake his head and swallow; his eyes slightly wet as he continues to gaze upon Chase's defeated expression. The young man had been through hell, literally; faced death, the possibility of never walking again, taken out of his father's will, being assaulted, kidnapped, drugged and then starting a very arduous physio routine all to be handed the icing on the cake – his birth father was dying and couldn't even dignify him near the end of his life with telling him the truth from his own mouth. _Damn you Rowan! Damn you! _House's mind internally growls.

_"Goodbye Robert."_

"Good…bye," Chase hangs up; his fist curling around the phone preparing to hurl it against the wall before he pulls his fist back and merely opens his palm and lets the phone fall to the carpeted flooring near the left side of the wheelchair. "I don't feel like the better man," Chase whispers as his body exhales heavily; House slowly reentering the room and easing himself down on the bed, looking at the back of Chase's head. "The man is dying of cancer and all he can do is lecture me on…it's almost unreal," Chase's voice stammers as he remains in place as he quickly wipes his eyes and swallows.

House's hand reaches out to touch Chase's shoulder but then retreats and rests at his side as Chase remains rigidly fixed in his place not turning around to let House see his defeated expression.

"He was more interested in knowing why you told me and if I wanted to be back in his will than actually telling me that he was dying. He'll die alone surrounded by strangers and the only thing he cares about is how a stranger told his son when he didn't want to!" Chase's angry tirade concludes with a small hiss before his lips allow a small nervous chuckle to escape. "Well it's done right?"

"Come," House entreats warmly as his hand finally rests on Chase's shoulder and gives it a warm squeeze. "Time for supper."

"I'm…not hungry," Chase states in a low tone as he remains fixed in place, his eyes staring absently at the wall before him. "Please… I'm not hungry."

House hears the bitterness in Chase's tone but can't fault the younger man for not wanting to eat after such an emotionally tense conversation. "Okay," House mentions in a softer tone as he tries to get up and leave the room. But something inside forces him to remain right where he is, at Chase's side in case he needed to vent or even just talk.

"He's dying…and was angrier that I found out than actually wanting to talk to me like and adult," Chase laments with a hint of disdain as he leans back in the wheelchair and then stares down at his legs in misery. "He made me feel guilty for being here."

"He's upset he can't play Twister," House lightly quips, his mind taking a few seconds comfort when Chase's lips gently smirk. "Even in death he can't show compassion, he never could. It's his loss."

"But…"

"You were the bigger man," House tells him firmly. "You proved that to him tonight and he couldn't face it."

"He couldn't even respect that I called to ask," Chase admits bitterly as he gives his head a shake and swallows back a small sniffle. "I didn't call expecting a miracle. I just thought he'd say it was true and…I guess I don't know what I expected."

"You expected him to talk to you like he was your father or at the very least a fellow professional instead of a selfish ass," House tells Chase in truth, being rewarded with a brief nod in confirmation.

"And you knew he wouldn't. So say I told you so and be done with it," Chase gently growls.

"I told you so. There feel better?"

"Oh much," Chase retorts. "I'm still not hungry."

"Okay," House finally stands up to leave. "You know where I'll be if you change your mind."

"House…"

"No," House quickly interjects as his hand finally rests on Chase's shoulder and then gently brushes his cheek before leaving. "He's wrong, you are welcome to stay here. In fact I do want you to stay. Join me when you're ready."

Chase listens to House leave, slightly twisting his head to make sure that he was alone and then lets out an angry curse, his balled up fist hitting the handrail of the wheelchair. "He's dying…and he…" his angry tirade starts and then stops as he looks back down at his phone.

_What was I expecting? He's never showed me respect, not as his son but even as a professional…never in life why did I expect it near death? Because when people are near death they sometimes feel the need to tell all…confess their darkest secrets in their darkest hour so they can die unburdened. That's what I expected, _Chase's mind acknowledges with a morbid sigh.

Chase's brain picks up the smell of the dinner House was making; his stomach begging him for even a small taste to curb the pangs in his enflamed core. He quickly rubs his face, wanting to make sure that even the small bit of escaping saline reside was gone. His father didn't care…why should he?

"Because I'm not my father," Chase whispers as he tries to slowly turns the chair around to face the doorway. But try as he might to make some progress, he remains in place with his back to the door, his mind still processing the tormented conversation word for word. _Was he jealous I was with House? Or angry? Why would he be angry? Why would he be jealous? Both would require some type of inner emotional connect and that might force one to believe that Rowan Chase actually cared about his son. But he doesn't. I know that. He never has. Once again its about House winning that he hates. Not about me._

For a moment he pauses to think about how he reacted when House first told him and now wonders if that was another of his father's sick games; to force the friction he knows it would have caused by House keeping the truth from him and then him either finding out after his father died or before as he had just demonstrated.

He hears some movement behind him and turns to see House standing in the doorway holding a small bowl of Jell-O and can't help but offer a small sad smile in spite of his emotional turmoil.

"Jell-O makes everything better. Lime."

"My favorite," Chase half whispers with a small frown as House nears.

"I know," House smiles as he sits back down on the bed and studies the tense expression on Chase's face. "None of this is your fault."

"Then why do I feel guilty?"

"Because you care and he doesn't," House replies pointedly as Chase absently stares at the small bowl of Jell-O before he lifts his eyes and regards House with a tender expression.

"And me caring about someone dying of a terrible affliction makes me a fool right?"

"No, never a fool; nothing I can fault you for. You called with the best of intentions and he…well was Rowan. Your feelings are hurt also," House adds in a gentle tone.

"Now I know why you were so…off the past few days."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"But I yelled at you earlier and…"

"Where's my sock," House playfully interjects as Chase looks up in defeat. "Are you under the impression I'm upset at you for showing emotion to a truth I hid from you about your father?"

"It wasn't right to yell."

"Actually it kinda was," House nods. "I withheld information that affects your personal family and no matter my reasons you had the right to be angry. But it does hurt me to see you sitting here so hurt and upset at something I might have had a part in. And for making you feel bad I am sorry."

"We both feel guilty."

"Two outta three ain't bad," House quips before his expression turns serious once more. "It's because we both care, about each other," he finally qualifies as Chase looks up in mild surprise. Telling himself that House cared or even telling his father didn't have quite the same emotional impact as actually hearing the words spoken and directed to him; a verbal confirmation of something mentioned a few weeks earlier.

"Now it's time for supper. Wasting away for a man that doesn't care about you at all isn't right and I won't allow it," House tells him in a tone that signaled it was time for him to listen and not bother arguing or he might find himself being force fed. Chase holds onto the bowl of Jell-O as they head for the kitchen, his stomach warm but aching for a bit of solid food while his mind is still distracted from the rather discouraging phone call to his father. He finishes the whole bowl but only picks away at his meal, finally excusing himself and heading into the living room to watch whatever bit of mindless entertainment was on the TV with the hopes of distracting his mind.

_'Milking sympathy…he'll tire of you…you'll have nothing…nothing but a mooch…shame on you Robert…'_ Rowan's voice echoes in Chase's mind as his finger starts to press down on the remote with a bit more pressure; House watching from a distance before he finally runs interference.

"Damn it turn faster," Chase growls at the inanimate object. "I want this channel. Why won't you…"

"It can't actually talk back you know," House snickers as he settles onto the couch beside Chase and snatches the remote away; Chase's arms folding over his chest as merely nods and looks away in disinterest. "I'm in charge of what we watch."

"No, not Jerseylicious," Chase moans as he tries to take the remote away.

"Ah you had your turn and you wanted to watch something sensible. Now it's time to watch something mindless."

"This is beyond mindless. It's horrible," Chase scoffs as he tries again to reach for the remote. But House's index finger jabs into his side and soon a soft bout of laughter is heard.

"Ah so it's true, my duckling is capable of laughter."

"You cheated."

"Maybe you like my choice in entertainment?"

"This is not funny," Chase huffs as he tries to reach for the remote again to change the channel and save his viewing sanity. But another tickle poke from House forces Chase to retreat to his side of the couch and wait for a few minutes before trying again.

"The acting is funny."

"You just like looking at their boobs."

"Course. You think I'm actually interested in the verbal drivel they write for this show?"

"Ah so you admit it's crap?"

"Wholeheartedly. But you still can't have the remote," House retorts as Chase offers a mock pout. "Faker."

The silly banter over the stupid reality show continues for a bit longer until it was even too much nonsense for House to continue enduring and the channel is changed; moving on to something just as mindless and the playful banter starts up once again. But even during the lighter part of their evening House knows that the conversation with his father is still affecting Chase and wonders if he could even say anything to offer some kind of emotional remedy. In the end he opts for nothing, not wanting to rock the boat as inside he knows he'd do the same thing; except for maybe telling Rowan to drop dead and then laugh at the irony of his biting prophecy.

Without saying a word or asking for help Chase rolls away from House, determined to get into his wheelchair on his own and head into his bedroom. Chase's hand slips and House reaches out to help. But when he notices Chase's hand flinch, he pulls back and Chase looks up in misery.

"Soon you won't need help," House reminds him kindly.

"I don't mind help," Chase counters in haste. "I'm just tired and when I'm tired…"

"You get growly. Okay young man no more mindless entertainment for you," House lightly quips as he turns off the TV and offers Chase a concerned frown as he notices Chase's shoulders slightly slump. "You want anything to help you sleep?"

"No I'll be fine," Chase replies meekly as House raises his brows in suspicion.

"Robert, don't make me tickle you to get the truth," House retorts as Chase's face slightly softens. "I know his words stung and probably will until morning, maybe even longer if you let them."

"I want to push them away but I'm trying to understand why even this close to the end he couldn't accord me that respect and just acknowledge that he should have told me himself," Chase's voice dies out to a nervous chuckle as he looks up at House in expectation. "Should I go to the funeral?" He wonders more than questions outright.

House feels his heart start to beat a bit faster as he's once again confronted with a question he doesn't want to answer. _No! _House's mind ponders retorting but in that moment he hears Wilson's voice of reason popping up and telling him that once again it wasn't his outcome to influence; as much as he might want to. _Well say something, _his voice recommends as the silence starts to build.

"I think…" House pauses as he slowly stands up and takes the handles of the wheelchair. "That you need to worry about getting a good night's sleep first and then getting back on to your schedule tomorrow."

"Okay," Chase nods quietly as they enter his bedroom; Chase already dressed for bed and allowing House to help him get under the covers. But as soon as he reaches for the blanket he rolls onto his side away from House and stares at the wall before him before he closes his eyes.

"Goodnight Robert," House whispers as he gives Chase's shoulder a small squeeze and then turns off the light and prepares to leave.

"Did he tell you how long he has?" Chase asks as he remains where he is in the dimly lit room.

"No, that I had to find out for myself. We'll talk more in the morning; you need your rest now."

Chase whispers goodnight in return before silence starts to take hold and one part of his brain orders the other to take a bit of a rest from al his questions and reasoning. But it's not long before his father's voice stars to seep into his subconscious and his eyes open and his jaw tightens.

He tells himself that he needs to get some sleep; being tried from the bit of over exertion at his physio session today but despite the fact that his body is tired and begging for some real sleep, his mind is still awake. _Why would he want to tell me? He removed me from his will so why not tell me this? Was that the reason? He's dying and wants to die with spite? He never loved me. He never even respected me. Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he say sorry? Because…he doesn't care. _Chase finally falls asleep when his mind is too tired to try to answer his unanswerable questions; whisking him into the darkness and promising him one distorted nightmare after another.

XXXXXXXX

"The ladies are going to love the new do," House teases the following as Chase wheels into the kitchen with his hair more than mussed up. "See if it was long you could just use a comb instead of gel."

"Thought I'd go natural today," Chase replies as his hands try to get his unruly short locks under control.

"I'm not going to ask how you slept," House hands Chase a cup of steaming coffee. "You look tired."

"I know it's stupid but I spent most of the night trying to figure out why my father wouldn't tell me why he has cancer. He didn't have tell me what kind or what stage. Just should have told me."

"And did you come up with a believable reason as to why he's still such an ass toward you?" House asks pointedly as Chase shakes his head in response. "And yet you stayed up all night."

"Trying to find sense in something that doesn't make sense," Chase groans as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Now that you know, put it aside and concentrate on getting back on your feet. Think of all the fun we'll have when I can finally beat you at Twister without feeling sorry for your handicap."

"That isn't fair," Chase playfully retorts as House's lips offer a small smirk. "I know I took a few liberties with Bruno yesterday so I think I'll chance the shower on my own tonight."

"Well not completely alone."

"You'll help me?"

"Ducky will complete the threesome."

"Why does that actually sound sordid?" Chase chuckles as he takes another sip of his coffee. The friendly banter continues a bit longer as they finish their breakfast, House heading to the door and telling Chase along the way he'd help with his leg exercises if he had some extra energy left over after the shower threesome.

XXXXXXXX

"And how did he react?"

"As I expected, angry and pissed off and hurt and then he calmed down and became Chase again," House tells Wilson as they slowly head toward his office. "I kept the truth from him and he reacted the way I did when I was told about my no good parent. But seeing him hurt for even a few minutes and knowing that I caused some of it…it hurt," House reluctantly admits; knowing that he'd only admit that to his best friend and no one else in public.

"It hurt because you care about him now. His father doesn't which is why he didn't even dignify his call or even say sorry. How was he after all that?"

"He sulked and then we made up."

"Really?" Wilson asks in surprise.

"Well we'll be on better terms after the threesome tonight," he grins as Wilson merely shakes his head.

"Sometimes I don't know who I feel sorrier for, Robert for enduring you or me having to listen to you."

"He seemed in favor of it. We're gonna do it in the shower," House continues as Wilson purses his lips in annoyance. "You don't feel sorry for me?" House asks as he feigns hurt.

"Hardly. Did he ask about the funeral?"

"Only if he should go and then the subject was dropped – by me," House answers in truth as his expression clouds. "Think I can just chain him to the bed so he'll miss it?"

"That's child abuse," Wilson retorts pointedly.

"How do you know he won't like it?" House chirps as Wilson rolls his eyes. "Whatever he decides…I'll try to support."

"Try?"

"Rowan is getting what he deserves. There I said what we are all thinking. He's a cold heartless bastard who will now face the end alone. The part that makes me the angriest is the fact that he knows that and instead of wanting his only son there to help him, he could give a damn."

"He never did," Wilson reminds him in a soft tone. "How's his physio?"

"Bruno's a gem."

XXXXXXXX

As soon as he entered the physio realm, Chase ordered himself to shelve all the angsty thoughts about his father; it wasn't fair for him to channel his anger outward toward Bruno. The younger man had never done anything but treat him with kindness, respect and friendship. He owed him better.

"So does ducky accompany you everywhere?" Bruno asks with a smirk as he hands Chase back his rubber ducky; Chase carefully tucking the familiar toy into the pocket of his hoodie and stowing his lunch box under the seat of his wheelchair before the two of them leave the lunchroom.

"I feel almost incomplete leaving home without him now," Chase lightly chuckles as they near their mat on the floor and he takes out the small yellow toy and places it on the familiar perch to watch.

"Well I hafta say when I don't see him I hafta ask," Bruno states with a smile. "You seem in a better mood today Dr. ch…"

"Bruno, what will it take for you to call me Robert?"

"I'm so used to calling Dr. House…well Dr. House that it just kinda carries over," Bruno explains as he arranges Chase on the mat and then moves himself into position at his feet and starts into their first set. "He does have a first name right?"

"It's Icabod," Chase grins as Bruno looks up in surprise.

"Explains a lot. Are you joking?"

"I am but it would be kinda foretelling," Chase replies in haste, his mind wanting to do anything to keep the subject of his father at bay; knowing that it was because of his father's negative voice yesterday that Chase snapped at Bruno and he didn't want a repeat.

"So where do you feel this?"

"Hip," Chase answers in truth, noting Bruno's look of surprise. "Is that…bad?"

"Hell no it's good, _Robert,_" he tosses in, earning a small chuckle from Chase. But as he pushes Chase's leg up higher, his fingers massage the hip bone and Chase's lips produce a small giggle. "What?"

"Tickles," Chase admits with a sheepish smile, looking around to see who was watching.

"Don't mind Carl," Bruno nods at Noel who looks at them in wonder. "He giggles like a girl too," he grins, the other physio tech merely shaking his head and muttering House's name in disdain before he heads back to the desk.

"A girl? You think I giggle…" Chase starts only to be interrupted by another involuntary giggle when Bruno touches the same spot. "Okay that was definitely borderline girly. Don't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed," Bruno smiles. "But that is a very good sign. Next week we'll do these and then start with the upper body weights in the same session and by the following week we might be able to get you on the walking beams."

"I hope so," Chase replies with a serious frown as he looks to the left and watches a familiar face approaching.

"Morning," Foreman greets with a friendly nod as he approaches, Bruno stopping in his actions and Chase propping himself up on his elbows.

"Morning. What brings you down here?"

"Walking past and thought I'd drop by and say morning. How's the progress?"

"Right on schedule," Chase looks at Bruno who nods in confirmation. Foreman leans in and plucks the little rubber ducky from the chair and looks at it in suspect before arching a dark brow down at Chase for an explanation.

"House."

"It needs glasses," Foreman quips before he places the little toy back on its perch. "Well if you need anything let me know."

"I will thank you," Chase responds in kind as he watches Foreman leave and then looks at Bruno in surprise.

"Unexpected?"

"Encouraging," Chase answers with a friendly tone. "We used to work together side by side and now he's House's boss. Was just…nice."

"Ah that's kinda cool. Now back to the giggle…"

XXXXXXXX

"Afternoon Dr. Chase."

"Afternoon Charlie," Chase greets as he wheels onto the bus and heads for his spot. The workout with Bruno had gone better than expected; the feelings in his legs were now where they should be and his encouragement about his prognosis was gaining momentum. He watches House approach the bus and wonders how he should tell him what he had been thinking about all day; his father and the decision he had come to about the impending funeral and his father's last days on this earth. _Will House be mad?_

"Right on time," House grins as he pats Charlie on the back and then heads for the spot beside Chase, a few other patrons getting on and then the vehicle finally pulling away from the curb and heading for home. "Did you play nice today?"

"Got an A+," Chase boasts as he leans back in his chair with a warm smile. "I found out I can actually giggle."

"Giggle?"

"Apparently it was a reaction to my hips feeling the pressure."

"I wonder what other pressure your hips would react to?" House wags his eyebrows at the same moment an older lady turned around. Chase's face flushes as he rolls his eyes, the older lady giving House a surprised glance before turning back.

"Keep it up and we'll be kicked off the bus for disturbing the peace," Chase mutters under his breath.

"And if that happens no threesome tonight," he states purposely loudly, making the older woman squirm in her seat and Chase to look out the window with a small snicker and head shake. They finally reach their stop and head for the front door of their apartment, Chase telling House about Foreman dropping by and House telling Chase that Wilson would also like to try the threesome; something to which Chase of course only rolls his eyes to and pictures poor Wilson's outward groan.

"I have some lobster that I'd like to…" House's voice trails off as he looks at the somewhat perplexed expression on Chase's face and now wonders what his duckling's hiding from him. "Robert…what is it?" House asks directly.

_Do I tell him now?_

"I…"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so I figured that what we know of Rowan, he wasn't the warm fuzzy type and even in death since he never told his son I figured he was selfish and just that uncaring so I went with that angle and hope it worked. If not please forgive. But after all that what has Chase decided about his father? Anything? Nothing? How will House take the news? Chase is back on the road to recovery so how will him getting his walking papers very soon affect his future with House? As always would love your thoughts so please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	20. Learning How to Let Go

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 20 – Learning How to Let Go**

**A/N: **Wow guys seriously chapter 20? I am so happy, amazed and honored you all are still liking this story so much! Seriously its b/c of you all that its gotten this far. I am glad you are liking the progression of the familial bond that is growing between House and Chase as they morph into the surrogate father/son roles. I hope you all like this update just as much and **THANK YOU!**

* * *

House looks at the almost panic-stricken look on Chase's face and feels his stomach tighten. He slowly lowers the plate in his grasp and gives Chase his full attention.

"I…" Chase starts and then stops.

For a split second House ponders finding that sock and stuffing in into Chase's mouth to keep him from admitting the truth he in reality doesn't want to hear. _My wombat is going home…for good?_

"Nose? Mouth?" House interjects as Chase's lips offer him a small nervous chuckle. "Robert, what is it?" House asks in a lower tone; his brain yelling at him to keep his tone tender and not accusatory or demanding.

"I haven't given this much thought…well no I have…actually it was most of the night and then this morning but…" Chase stammers as he looks away, reaching for something for his hands to fidget before House's hand rests atop his on the counter, bringing Chase's nervous gaze back to his.

"You want to go to Melbourne, right?" House asks softly. It wasn't like by suggesting it, he was putting the idea in Chase's mind; it was already there. This was sort of his way of being able to tell himself I told you so when he gets the answer he fear's coming.

"I'm thinking about it," Chase replies in a soft whisper; wanting to ask if it was okay but remembering that he's a grown man and the decision was his to make. But as he looks at House's almost nervous expression, he starts to wonder if maybe House would be upset at him going, after all it wasn't like Rowan Chase was anywhere near a contender for the father of the year award.

"Okay," House mentions with a stiff tone as he tries to offer Chase a tense smile.

"I know it might seem….odd," Chase huffs as he rubs his face and looks up at House with a frown.

"It would for a lesser man," House tells him tenderly as Chase feels some of his inner anxiety starting to subside.

"But?" Chase tries to qualify.

"But if you're waiting for me to tell you not to go then I'll tell you, don't go. It's not like you'll be bringing home his father of the year trophy after the bastard finally kicks the bucket," House adds with a sour note. "Just make sure you want to go for you and not him. He doesn't want nor does he deserve your time, even a few seconds."

"I know going down there to…" Chase pauses as he looks away and sighs heavily, "too spend his last few days with him would be pointless. I know that," Chase looks back up at House. "I know he doesn't love me. I know he never loved me," Chase is forced to softly acknowledge as he quickly swallows, forcing House's sorrow to strengthen. "And I know much like my phone call, me going down there to help out for his last few days would be wasted."

"Robert…"

"I'm right aren't I?"

"You are. It would be a waste. Your father appreciates nothing good or valuable; least of all his only son," House acknowledges warmly.

"So I shouldn't go at all?"

"Well I would like to chain you to the bed but Wilson has threatened to have me arrested if I tried."

"You'd try?" Chase asks with an amused tone as House nods enthusiastically and his lips can't help but curl upward automatically.

"Figured you might like it," House deadpans. "I can't make that decision for you. But you know how I feel."

"I thought I'd go down for the funeral and then see what happens," Chase states in a somewhat small tone.

_See…what…happens…_House looks at the sincere expression on Chase's face and feels his entire frame sag against the countertop; his left arm bearing the brunt of his weight. It was what he had expected but inside…deep inside, had hoped that Chase would have mentally told his father to piss off and be done with it. But he couldn't. And as Chase looks up at him with an endearing and trusting expression he feels his heart sink further. _What if he stays? What if I lose him for good? We are just getting things to where they should be and now this. _But as he hears Wilson's voice of reason, as always reminding him that if Chase cares enough about the new parental affection that House is offering, he'll go and pay his last respects and then come back to where he belongs; to his real home. _It's his choice now. You have to learn how to let go with the understanding that he's coming back. He will come back._

"How will you find out when it is?" House dares to inquire.

"I don't know," Chase confesses in truth as he slumps back in his wheelchair. "I doubt he'd leave instructions to tell me when it is after he passes. So I'll just try to make a few calls and if I miss…then…I guess I miss," Chase shrugs as he looks over at the plate of leftovers House had placed down on the countertop.

"And if you miss you'll pout?"

"I know I shouldn't regret it but…so you said something about leftover lobster," Chase's voice trails off as he looks away. "All my life he hasn't given me one moments thought and here I am stressing about him. Seems silly doesn't it?" Chase looks back at House as he concludes his question.

"You can try to be heartless like him, but we both know you'll fail."

"But you c…" Chase starts and then stops; looking up in guilt. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

"Toward most I am uncaring and yes I could do that in fact I'm sure I'd enjoy it very much. But you're not me," House reminds him kindly. "And that's what makes you endearing and me insufferable."

"Only to Wilson," Chase gently smiles, as House's face softens. "I hate sitting here stressing about it."

"Let's see what we can do with that lobster and then we can come back to stressing about this okay? Still gotta fatten you up remember?"

"Thought you had forgotten all that," Chase gently snickers as he pulls back and heads for the fridge and pulls it open.

"Nope. Might be old but am not senile," House jokes as Chase gives him a small eye roll.

The two of them engage in friendly banter about food and Chase's weight as they go about making dinner. Chase's mind had been in turmoil most of the day as per the fallout from the discussion with his father. He wasn't really surprised by House's disdainful comment about not going to the funeral, he was right, his father didn't deserve any of his time, love or attention and he was right when he said that he knows going down there while he was still alive would be a waste of time and would only give his father ample cause to treat him poorly in public one last time. But going to the funeral, while expensive, was his duty as only son. Or was it? His father had cut him out of his will and wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe he was wrong?

"He cut me from his will…why do I want to go?" Chase asks, his back still to House. But his words, while soft and laced with anxiety, are loud enough for House to pause in his actions and look up with a frown. "It's expensive and I know that he wouldn't even care if I was there or not."

"Whatever you do," House reminds him as his hands rest on both of Chase's tense shoulders and gives them a comforting squeeze, "has to be done for you. Doesn't matter what he would or might want. Let's eat now. And then a shower and then if you're really a good boy, maybe I'll help you with some leg exercises."

"Really?" Chase twists his head around and looks up at House in mild surprise.

"Really. Eat now or the lobster gets cold."

"Well we can't have that can we?" Chase retorts as he retrieves the salad from the fridge and then heads back to the counter. He looks at the pieces of cut apple and then up at House with expectant brows.

"Perfect fit," House jokes after gently pushing one slice between Chase's teeth.

"I still think ducks don't eat apples," Chase mentions seriously as he eats the rest of the slice and the two of them sit down for dinner.

The conversation, while light and non-confrontational, is somewhat strained at best and House knows that a lot of it is his own inner fear of losing Chase now oozing to the surface; not wanting to press the issue about Chase's impending departure to the place of his birth. I can't lose him to that bastard, House's mind inwardly growls as Chase lightly laughs at something he says. I won't allow it. But how can I stop it? He's a grown man and the choice is ultimately his no matter what I say. I will have to respect it; I won't have to like it but I will have to accept it. It's not like I have a real say. _Hmm or do I? Maybe I do….what if…._ And in that moment House's mind formulates a plan that might ensure Chase's remaining with him. Hopefully.

After dinner, House shoos Chase away from the table, telling him to get ready for his shower as he'll clean up; the mundane activity actually giving him time to think about the new turn of events and how he could help sway Chase's decision to, if he did go, not stay for very long. He hears something on the TV in the living room and instantly an idea springs to life. With a bit more determination now dancing in his mind he finishes with the dishes and then heads into his own bedroom to pull on a pair of shorts and help Chase with his shower.

"All set," House tells Chase as the younger man enters the bathroom with only his underwear on. "Ducky is too," House nods to the small rubber toy perched atop the sink rim looking at them.

"I swear one of these days that thing is going to come to life and quack at me," Chase lightly chuckles as House turns on the water.

"I won't be able to pull a Bruno tonight," House tells him in truth; both of them knowing that House didn't have the strength to hold Chase for the entire shower and help clean him at the same time, this would have to be done with Chase in the bathing chair.

"Yes I do miss the gentle giant."

"Okay strip," House demands with a small smirk as Chase works to remove his boxers, once again, much like with Bruno, feeling a bit odd at first at being completely naked before House, but then feeling his anxiety subside as he reminds himself this isn't sinister; it's a kind gesture, a parental offering, something he has come to crave and cherish from his older guardian.

Chase wheels himself under the streams and House undoes the latches on the back of the chair so he was able to access more of his younger charge. The two of them talk more about Bruno and how much he's helped Chase with his recovery and how he's excited about starting his upper body training next week and then he'd be on crutches.

"Hafta childproof the shelves," House quips before he tells Chase to close his eyes. He had brought a cup and poured some of the warm water over his head and then reaches for the shampoo. "Better."

"Am afraid to ask what it looks like?" Chase lightly groans after House had finished soaping his hair and then styling it a certain way. House fetches a small mirror and hands it to Chase who looks at his silly hairdo and then groans.

"Would have looked better when you had more hair. Can I buy you a wig?"

"Hardly," Chase retorts as he closes his eyes once more, signaling for House to wash out the soap. By the end of the shower, Chase's anxiety was almost non-existent and he was able to just let House finish with the rest of his cleaning and then pull back warm and wet.

"Take your time," House tells him kindly as he hands Chase a towel and then disappears into the hallway, heading toward his own bedroom to dry and redress for the night.

Chase lightly hums to himself as he dries off; happy that House is going to help him with some of the leg exercises Bruno told him to try at home. After he had completely dried off, he heads back to his bedroom to put on some proper clothes. At the same time, his mind now starts to make the comparison between his father's harsh treatment of him during his brief stay and House's tender affection since even before he moved in. His father had told him that House only pitied him and that he was there for some kind of tormented amusement on the older doctor's part; saying it was sordid and Chase wasn't as valued as he had wanted. But House's actions toward him, while at first surprising and strained, were now welcomed and missed if not felt; for the first time in his life he felt he belonged to someone who genuinely cared about him and he didn't want to lose that. And Chase meant what he said when he told his father that he felt wanted by House and the small curse that followed, told him exactly what his father thought. He was jealous – but not of his son; of the fact that in the end House had won.

He tries not to make the last thought about his father only caring about the win drag him down in emotional melancholy and finishes dressing and heads back into the living room to wait for House. He nears a small picture on the table and stops to pick it up, gazing at the happy faces with a small smile of his own; House watching in contentment.

"Ready?" House finally announces himself as Chase puts the picture back on the stand and nods. "Alright then come here and I'll see what I can do with you."

"Why did you end it with a sinister laugh?" Chase chuckles as he nears the center of the room and lets House help him down out of the wheelchair and onto the floor.

"I'm a sinister guy," House wags his brows as he plops himself down onto a small stool, not having the flexibility that Bruno has in his tired limbs. "Now remind me again…are you ticklish?" House teases as he holds Chase's bare foot in his grasp.

"You know I a…" Chase starts only to be cut off by a small bout of laughter from his own lips.

"That sounds promising."

"I felt that."

"You haven't before?"

"Not as strong as now."

"Shall I continue?"

"Not with that," Chase states in haste. But it was too late as House's fingers gently poke and tease the soft bottom sole of Chase's bare right foot; the younger man gently writhing on the floor but unable to stop House's actions. "St-stop…" Chase finally flops back down with a flushed face.

"Haven't heard much laughter around home for a few days now. Was a welcome sound."

Chase hears the tender tone and use of the word 'home' and instantly feels his eyes wanting to water.

"Robert?" House instantly inquires; hoping his plan hadn't backfired. "Does it hurt now?"

"Only in that my real father never once used the word home and me in the same sentence except to remind me that I never had one that I wanted. You've given me that now. Maybe I shouldn't go."

House pokes Chase's foot once more, forcing Chase's head to shoot up in surprise before he laughs. "No sad faces allowed."

"Yes Sir," Chase replies with a mock salute before House tickles him once more. The playful laughter starts to subside and House finally gets started on his leg exercises; the two of them talking about whatever was playing in the background and how House would have to find some socket plugs for when Chase started to walk again. The evening finally comes to a somewhat satisfying close but as House says goodnight and then flips off the light he can't help but wonder if Chase will once again spend the night thinking about his father and whether or not to go to the funeral.

He would and tension would still be allowed to fester.

XXXXXXXX

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him you were in agreement with me chaining him to the bed," House retorts to Wilson the following morning; Wilson merely pursing his lips but ignoring House's lame reply.

"So he hasn't decided yet?" Wilson inquires as he sits down in the chair before House's desk.

"I think he's leaning toward yes. I told him I didn't want him to go and that his father was a selfish ass and…"

"You said that?"

"You think I'd spare Rowan's feelings now that he's dying?" House counters as Wilson can only shrug an agreement in resignation. "But I told him that he should go for him and not care about what his father would think. I know if he doesn't go he'll just sit and sulk. Sulking isn't a good look for Robert. Pouting is but not sulking. Only I can sulk. Well you sulk really well also."

"I don't sulk," Wilson rushes in his defense. "Nice that you call him Robert."

"_Chase_ has to…"

"Nice try," Wilson grins. "Is he allowed to call you Greg?"

"He knows if he does he'll get a spank."

"That's child abuse."

"He's a grown man. It's called a spanking if I've warned him fair and square," House states clearly as Wilson shakes his head.

"You've warned him?"

"Children need to know their boundaries," House states matter of factly.

"Do you think Rowan will even leave word to let Chase know when he passes?" Wilson changes the subject.

"No. He has no honor in life, am not expecting any in death," House replies with a heavy sigh as he recalls Chase's sad confession about knowing his father never loved him.

"So he could miss the thing entirely?"

"I have a plan."

"You know those really are the four most terrifying words in the English language. Can I ask what it is?"

"No."

"Does _Robert _know?"

"No."

"Should I be afraid?"

"No," House replies before he smiles. "I know Robert wants to go and I can't stop him. But I want him to come back."

"Ah so this is part of your learning how to properly let go."

"In a way. I can still control part of it."

"For a brief moment there I had hope," Wilson sighs before his pager goes of. "Okay back to work for me and as I recall, you've been paged…"

"By Foreman for another boring meeting. It can wait," House grins as he watches Wilson take his leave and then reaches for the phone. "Okay what is that number in Melbourne again?"

XXXXXXXX

"So how was the threesome last night?" Bruno asks with a friendly smile as he helps arrange Chase on the mat, the rubber ducky watching from his place on the chair beside him.

"House was the perfect gentleman," Chase replies with a smile as Carl/Noel looks at them with a frown. Bruno and Chase look up at the other physio tech and then back at each other and share an amused smile. "You want to join us next time Carl?"

"Hardly," Carl answers so fast that he too can't help but snicker.

"Oh if only he knew the truth," Bruno shakes his head. "You know he might now gossip about that."

"Well if it ever reaches House's ears he'll simply say, it was the best he's ever had and be done with it," Chase replies as he tries to impersonate House and the two of them share a friendly laugh once more.

"So you given any more thought about going to see your father?"

"I was thinking if I hear about it in time, I might go to the funeral. I know it's expensive but…but I should go right?"

"Man that's a tough call," Bruno replies as they continue to work at Chase's leg exercises. "He was so nasty toward you, from what you told me. But he's still your old man so yeah I guess you do right? What's Dr. House say about it?"

"He's not thrilled but in the end he knows it's my decision," Chase answers with a frown as he rests on his folded arms. "I know I have a few weeks and I hope to be at least up and about on my feet by that time."

"Well you are making great progress," Bruno tells him in truth. "So about the shower, Dr. House didn't try to hold you up did he?"

"No. He said he was afraid he'd break me," Chase lightly smirks. "It was the chair shower. It was okay. I got a new hairdo out of it."

"Yeah what kind?"

The light conversation between friends continues; Chase's mind already having determined what kind of thank you gift he was going to get Bruno after it was over – a night out to see his friends in the NFL play live and then dinner. It was what he considered a small thank you but hopes it's appreciative enough for everything his new friend had gone above and beyond to help him with.

"Do you have a weight set at home?" Bruno asks as he helps Chase back into his wheelchair at the end of their last leg session.

"I think I'll have some shopping to do this weekend," Chase replies with a small frown.

"Well if you do get some, let me know and I'll send home some upper body exercises. I think it's really cool that Dr. House helped you last night."

"Me too. He's like the father I never had but wished I did and now I do," Chase concludes with a small smirk.

"And you know not everyone can say that," Bruno jokes as Chase nods and smiles. They give each other a happy smile and nod before Chase heads into the hallway and heads for the exit doors to wait for House to join him on the bus. Having Bruno as another person to talk to was very refreshing and provided another perspective that wasn't maybe as biased as House's.

_'Sounds like he's very protective of you and your feelings. Kinda nice to have that since your real father was so lame.'_

Chase recalls Bruno's words after he told him that House didn't like the idea of him going when he asked if the older doctor gave his opinion about it. But never having anyone worried about his feelings or his overall wellbeing as much as House was starting to show more and more each day settles his mind somewhat. But inside he's still torn about even calling his father and asking that he be told when the funeral would be. _Would he even tell me the truth? Would he even leave word? _As Chase waits for House to arrive he knows inside that Rowan Chase wouldn't care to even tell his son that; probably gloating over the fact that he would die, the service would be held and his son would find out after the fact. House's semi-prophecy about him having no honor coming to the fore.

"Well I graduated from grade one today," Chase shows House his progress report with a hearty smile.

"Let's celebrate by playing Twister," House suggests eagerly as Chase merely gives him an eye roll. "Hmm my duckling isn't as enthused as he should be."

"I still feel like one of those bendy stick men that you can just position anyway you want."

"Really? Multiple positions," House cheekily retorts to which Chase just shakes his head. "How is Bruno?"

"Excellent actually. I have finally thought of the perfect thank you gift. Now I just need to be able to walk to enjoy it with him."

"You will. Soon you'll be running all over this place," House replies with an overly dramatic huff.

XXXXXXXX

"You sure you don't mind coming?" Chase asks as they head downstairs Saturday afternoon to catch the bus to go to the mall to do some shopping.

"Nope," House replies as they head for their familiar stop.

Chase had only broached the topic of the funeral once more over the past few days; telling House he was still undecided and might not even hear about it in time. House of course not telling him – yet about his current plan in case at the last minute, Chase did change his mind and decide not to go. As he listens to the silly conversation between him and Bruno, House's agitation about losing Chase starts to grow; his mind angry at himself for even feeling such, as he calls them, _human_ feelings. _Is this how a real father feels when he thinks his only child might move away and never come back? I just got him in my life, I can't lose him now. It's oddly disconcerting. _But Wilson would remind him that the feelings were normal as the longer he allowed Chase to live with him and the more he treated him like a son, the deeper they would develop. _It's only natural that protective concern would come to the fore, you've seen him hurt by Rowan so many times and want to spare him, but you can't from everything. _So then what do I do? _He'll go and come back and when he does you'll be here to help fill that loving void his father never did. You can't control everything House. Not this time._

_'We'll see about that,' _he had retorted to Wilson, mostly in silence and then the subject was dropped by House. They reach the busy mall and for a few seconds, House actually considers turning around and leaving Chase to fend for himself.

"You actually look nervous," Chase comments in amusement as he looks at the worried expression on House's face.

"The zoo is quieter than this mad house," House purses his lips as Chase merely chuckles. "Alright lead the way, I'll follow behind so you can clear a path."

"Very well," Chase nods as he turns and starts to wheel himself toward a clothing store he likes; House following behind making comments about the various customers. "I think that man heard you."

"Then he shouldn't dress like that in public," House replies in a firm tone as Chase dares to look and see if the verbally offended customer had decided to take action. Thankfully he only mutters something about House being a cranky old man and continues on his way. "Rif raff," House nods as he follows Chase into a quieter department store.

"Here try this one," House suggests with a small snicker.

"I don't think so," Chase groans as he tosses aside the pair of too tight pants and continues on his way. "I might attract the wrong kind of attention."

"Then you just tell daddy and he'll beat them with his cane," House answers with a snicker as another customer within ear shot looks up in wonder. "Well that's why I have one."

"House," Chase groans as he shakes his head and continues on to the dressing room.

"Right this way," the young male clerk tells them as he heads into the designated fitting area. "You want to help your son or is he okay on his own?" He turns and asks a somewhat surprised House.

"My…son," House states rather than questions and the younger man offers a small horrified expression at his assumption. "My son will be fine on his own," House continues as the younger man looks at Chase who nods in agreement.

"Alright well…right this way," the clerk offers weakly as Chase follows after him into the handicapped change room, House waiting close by just in case he was needed. But as much as he had inwardly felt pride at the use of the word 'son' directed toward Robert in his company, his mind was still unaccustomed to hearing it on public and wonders if Chase had felt uncomfortable by it at all. _Won't rock the boat if he doesn't._

"Well how do they look?" Chase comes out of the room with his new pants on.

"Stand up so I can check out your ass," House snickers as the young clerk looks up in surprise once more. "He has a nice ass."

"I think I'll take them," Chase utters weakly as the young clerk nods and then takes his leave, Chase looking up at House as he shrugs. "You are going to taint everyone in this place."

"Well you do have a nice ass. Not as nice as your hair but still nice," House jokes as Chase mutters under his breath why he even bothers.

"You sounded like Uncle Wilson there. I'll tell him and he'll be proud," House calls out loudly as Chase just offers a laugh in return and mutters something about poor Wilson.

"Okay where to next?" Chase inquires after he pays for his pants, stows them under his chair and then follows beside House as they head out of the store and back into the busy main area.

"You're in charge of the outing today, you lead the way. Wherever you want to go, I'm there."

"Really?" Chase looks up in surprise. "You're actually having fun here?"

"I like the company," House answers with a fond smile as Chase rewards him with a contented smile in return. The two of continue to shop for a bit longer before Chase's stomach starts to outwardly growl and House looks down in amusement. "Told you Sushi wasn't enough for lunch. Time for supper."

"Can we eat out?"

"Why not, we're already here. In fact…"

"Hey Dr. House, Robert," comes a friendly tone as they turn to see Bruno walking up to them with a broad smile.

"Ah Bruno, fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah fancy that," he grins as House looks at them in suspect.

"Why do I have the feeling that I've just been played?"

"Would I do that to you?" Chase offers an innocent face as he looks up at House.

"In a heartbeat," House slightly huffs. "I'll punish you later."

"Really? You'll punish him?" Bruno inquires in surprise as Chase laughs.

"Yes he'll ground me," Chase retorts seriously as he watches House pull his phone.

"Well if we're having a family dinner out, we have to include Uncle Wilson."

"Perfect," Chase replies with a warm smile as House looks at the younger man in surprise.

"Uncle Wilson, your presence is requested at the mall."

_"House? What is going on?"_

"Just…get down here," House huffs before he hangs up and looks at the two younger men who offer mock innocent smiles in return. "Oh yeah…two of a kind you two."

"While we're waiting can we go to the Lid store?" Bruno asks in wonder.

"Lid? For what a jar?" House retorts as Chase snickers.

"More like your head," Chase pipes up as House looks at Bruno with a frown.

"Why didn't you say hat store?"

"Lead the way Bruno," Chase suggests as House falls back and watches the two younger men laughing and talking like two close friends; his lips unable to do anything but twist upward.

"You said this was an emergency," Wilson walks up to House with a dry expression.

"It is. Look where the are."

"The lid store."

"Everyone knows that term but me?"

"That was rhetorical right?" Wilson replies with a small smirk. "You made a good call in setting those two up to be buddies."

"Father always knows best," House boasts as Wilson can only nod in agreement. Finally Chase and Bruno exit the store, each sporting a new baseball cap and the four of them slowly meander through the mall toward the restaurant attached to it.

After they had given their orders, Chase looks at the table of friends and despite the fact that the tension over his decision to attend his father's funeral was still festering deep inside, for tonight it would take a backseat to his would be surrogate family and the happy times they were offering him. It was something Rowan Chase could never destroy. Ever. The family was now here to stay; it being the only thing that would sway the final decision that would affect his future.

* * *

**A/N:** okay so a bit of tension to start and some fun times to conclude with. You'll see what happens with Chase's decision up next as he decides about going to Melbourne and what plan does House now have in play to help Chase with his decision as he doesn't want to lose him? His rehab is going strong and he'll be up on his feet shortly. Hope this chapter, a filler of sorts, was still enjoyable and please do leave me your thoughts in a review before you go and thanks so much!


	21. A Plan in Motion

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 21 – A Plan in Motion**

* * *

"Thought I'd find you here," House's warm voice pulls Chase's weary gaze away from the window, looking away from the darkened landscape outside and up at the older man as he approaches.

"Did I wake you?" Chase asks apologetically as he glances at the time on the TV display console – 2:25am.

"Light sleeper," House replies as he eases himself down into the plush easy chair beside Chase; his right hand automatically lifting to feel Chase's forehead, the action earning House a small smirk for his actions.

"I'm not sick…just…"

"Agitated?" House interjects as he watches Chase gently nod. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Not tired of listening?"

"Not to you," House assures him as he gives him a firm nod. "I know it has to do with your father's state of health."

"He sends a letter telling me that he's taking me from his will, how disappointed he is in me and that I basically don't exist as his son and all I can think is he couldn't tell me something important like he's got terminal cancer. I keep trying to understand it but I can't and it's frustrating," Chase concludes with a sigh.

"And what else?" House presses as Chase looks at him with a defeated expression. "Robert what did you do?"

"I called the hospital he's at."

"Figured as much," House huffs as Chase frowns. "And?"

"And he uh….well he told the staff that his son wasn't to know…anything," Chase's voice trails off with a small growl followed by a small curse.

House looks at his defeated posture and feels his anger rising instantly.

"Plus I want to walk and I know I can't rush the process," he sighs as he leans back in his chair and rubs his face. "So all this has me up at night when I should be sleeping."

"Can't heal if you don't rest," House lightly reminds him as his hand rests on his shoulder and gives him a squeeze. "You knew he'd be a mean bastard until he died right?" House inquires as Chase nods in agreement.

"All my life I wanted to feel a part of something and now when I finally do…"

"It's not your real family," House interjects and Chase winces as he looks away. "Are you sure?" House counters, drawing Chase's wondering gaze back toward him.

"Meaning?"

"The very definition of family has nothing to do with being related by blood in fact it doesn't even mention the word. The word family means parents and children living together in the same household. That would mean, care, trust, respect and loyalty. We're family," House tells him warmly as Chase's frown instantly fades and a small smile is produced.

"Family," Chase whispers, as if hearing himself say the word for the very first time in his life. But in many ways he was; it was the first time he was saying it with real meaning behind it. House was right, family wasn't defined by blood – but by love, loyalty and a common feeling of affection and concern. His birth father, the same man he shared the same blood type as had basically disowned him; but another man, with no DNA connection whatsoever had stepped up to the plate and was telling him they were a family.

"I like the sound of that," Chase admits tenderly.

"Course you do, you know I'm right?" House grins widely as Chase can only purse his lips and briefly shake his head.

"I wasn't arguing."

"That's because I raised…" House starts and then stops; not wanting to cross the line in familial relations. "Hell…I raised hell."

"Know what you meant," Chase tells him softly.

"You do?"

"Yes and you're right. Afterall you raised a genius," Chase retorts with a wide grin as House leans in and gives him a small hair ruffle, eliciting a small chuckle from Chase's lips before he tries to hold back a small yawn.

"Come on now…think you've earned the right to sleep in," House mentions lightly as he takes the handlebars of Chase's wheelchair and slowly heads toward Chase's bedroom, humming a soft tune that Chase takes comfort in. House helps him get into bed and then offers a warm goodnight before he turns off the light and heads for the door, Chase rolling onto his side and humming the same tune that House was a few moments earlier. House's lips can't help but curl upward as he heads back into his own bedroom and the apartment once again goes dark until morning.

The next morning it's House's turn to awaken last, his nose picking up the deep aroma of freshly brewed coffee. But his ears pick up the sound of a small curse and he can't help but snicker to himself as he gets out of bed and heads for the kitchen.

He rounds the corner and watches in amusement as Chase looks up with a dab of batter on his cheek and some flour on his nose. "You forgot your maid's costume," House quips as he takes a nearby cloth and gently wipes the batter from Chase's cheek.

"Too tired to shave my legs this morning," Chase tosses back with a smile. After he and House had talked the night before and House reminded him about the definition of the word family, he had slept solidly until the morning light had started to peak through the sides of the shades, telling him it was time to get up. However, that was still only a few hours and he was tired. House joins in and soon the area around them is filled with friendly banter; both of them building off House's confession of them being a family and taking comfort in the fact that there was nothing awkward between them.

Over the past few weeks, Sunday morning's had morphed into a casual ritual for them; pancakes, bacon, coffee and fruit. Each of them taking turns reading from various headlines and sections of the morning's newspaper before cleaning up and either relaxing in the living room depending on the weather or heading outside for a leisurely stroll around the block. Those were the days House wasn't called in for a medical issue that Foreman couldn't get someone to fix for him.

Today was slightly overcast with the chance of showers and Chase didn't want to venture too far without an umbrella. So after House had finished putting the few dishes away, he rejoins Chase in the living room to help him work on some leg strengthening exercises; even doing some of them himself and Chase teasing him that very soon they'd be having races around the block.

The rest day is spent just relaxing as Chase hadn't slept very well the night before; the two of them engaging in another enjoyable at home ritual, House reading to Chase on the couch until Chase falls asleep and House remains seated, reading and watching over his precious roommate until he would awaken.

XXXXXXXX

The next morning House leaves for work a bit earlier than expected, wanting to make a call before anyone could pester him as to his motives.

_"Royal Melbourne Hospital," the friendly female voice with the distinctive Australian accent comes on the phone. "How may I direct your call?"_

"Oncology please," House asks in a low tone as he looks at the webpage before him. "Dr. Nelson please."

_"One minute."_

House looks over at a picture of Chase on his desk and can't help but feel a warm smile start to play upon his lips. But as he pictures Chase's sad expression when he found him sitting in the dimly lit living room in the middle of the night his smile fades and a frown develops. _Maybe Rowan will be dead already, funeral over and this will be moot! _House's mind inwardly growls in sarcasm.

_"Dr. Nelson."_

"Dr. Nelson, this is Dr. Gregory Chase from New York," House starts into his lie. "I'm Rowan's…half-brother and I know he's under your care until…well the end."

_"Dr. Chase. I'm sorry he said he had no other family."_

_Figures, _House's mind silently hisses. "Well we aren't close and I don't assume to be allowed to be involved in the funeral preparations but I would like to be notified when he passes."

_"Did you want me to pass word to…"_

"No," House interjects in haste and then utters a small nervous chuckle. "We didn't part on good terms and I don't want to add further stress, but I would like to pay my respects, when the time comes. If you could please take my email address and just let me know I would appreciate that."

House gives the doctor his personal information, hangs up and then leans back in his chair and stares at the phone. Just because he would get the information he didn't necessarily have to pass it on. _You can't keep it from him, _his brain reminds him correctly, _you've just built up and earned Robert's trust – knowing and not telling him would destroy it._

"Am almost afraid to ask what that look is for?" Wilson's voice breaks into his thoughts and pulls House's gaze instantly upward.

"I glued Foreman's laptop to his desk," House retorts with a smirk to which Wilson looks on in shock.

"What did you really do? It's Chase right?"

"It's his own damn fault his moral compass hasn't broken."

"Unlike yours?"

"He can always buy a new laptop."

"Are we talking about Foreman or Robert?"

"Both are broken in some way."

"And you're not?" Wilson tosses back. "What happened with Robert?" Wilson asks in a way that forces House to exhale a heavy sigh and purse his lips. "He wants to go Melbourne after all?"

"There is no problem _with_ Robert," House answers carefully. "The issue is mine…_about _Robert," he concludes as Wilson cocks his head to the side in question. "Trust me when his father is dead and he's walking everything will be dandy."

"What happened?"

"He's agitated. Doesn't sleep well, doesn't eat full meals…"

"You're worried."

"Course I'm worried," House snaps. "Rowan Chase doesn't deserve the air he breathes much less his son's attention, even if it's only to worry about him and Robert is worrying about him to his own detriment."

"And of course you can't change that so you're angry."

"Wonder if I can slip some cyanide into a pineapple and ship it to Melbourne," House ponders.

"Am sure that'll go over well. What else is going on?" Wilson presses.

"I wonder who else's laptop I can glue to their desk. How about Marcy?"

"House?"

"She doesn't use it all the time and when she does she's on that fat camp site," he shrugs as Wilson gives him a horrified glance. "Robert will be fine," his expression turns serious once more when Chase's face comes into his mind's eye. "After his father is finally dead," he adds once more before his phone rings. "Foreman. Gotta go."

"Typical," Wilson mutters under his breath as he pushes up from his chair; watching House quickly vacate his office. But as he glances down at House's desk and sees the name of the Melbourne hospital and the number his mind puts two and two together. "I just hope you're doing this for him…and not you," his voice trails off as he heads into the hallway. But instead of going toward his own office, he heads for the elevator on a slight detour.

XXXXXXXX

"Got them?"

"Got them," Chase replies as his hands curl around the weights and he gives Bruno a nod. He would start out sitting in his wheelchair and just getting his arms used to having the extra weights.

"Okay we'll start off easy but at any time your heart feels the strain you let me know okay? I know you're kinda stubborn at times when it comes to this," Bruno gently teases.

"I learned my lesson," Chase briefly groans as he starts into the first set that Bruno shows him. After five reps he does admit that his arms feel a small burning sensation but Bruno tells him that's normal; it's if he feels pain in his heart that he needs to stop.

Wilson watches from a distance and can't help but smile when he notices Chase and Bruno laugh at something as they continue with Chase's rehab. But as he hears House's concerned tone in his head he worries the emotional effect on his friend if and when Chase is fully recovered and actually wants to move back on his own. _Would he want to move out? The loneliness will destroy House. Maybe he'll want to stay and not be along either. Those two need each other more than they can admit…or maybe they have? Damn… _he inwardly huffs as he carries on.

"Okay…I need a break…" Chase lightly pants as Bruno quickly takes the weights from his grasp. He quickly takes a sip of cold water and then leans back and tries to slow his breathing.

"My bad I shoulda insisted on only a f…"

"Not your fault," Chase quickly interjects as he notices Bruno putting the weights away about five minutes later. "I want to do another set."

"Okay but rest up about five more minutes okay? Otherwise you could do some damage."

"I see that other fellow isn't here. He got is walking papers right?"

"Friday. He's got his crutches and he's free," Bruno smirks. "It'll come. You still thinkin' of going to the funeral?"

"I doubt I'll find out. I tried to call down there but um…well was told that my father didn't want me to know and they had to respect his wishes. He said specifically nothing we to be given to his son Robert," Chase replies glumly.

"Hey man I'm sorry about all that. Can't get why he's such a jerk to you even now that he's dying. You know it still kinda strikes me as funny about your dad and all. Not in a bad way but um…"

"What does?"

"When I first was talking to House about your rehab and stuff and why he wanted me to help you and he said you're special and that father knows best. I asked him about your father because I never heard Dr. House mention having kids and he said your dad was dead and he was now looking out for you."

"He said that?"

"Yeah man it wasn't until you told me otherwise that I knew the truth. Never said anything to Dr. House about it and now that I know about your dad figured he did it because he really cares. Guess he's always been about protecting you huh."

"Yeah…" Chase's voice trails off as his mind ponders this new information. He puts on a small tense smile for Bruno as they start into their next set. About half hour later, Chase finally surrenders and slumps back in his chair, Bruno looking at his flushed face in concern. "I'm…okay," he pants as he takes his water bottle and takes a hearty gulp. "Just…not used to it…yet."

"That's why we start with three pound and work our way up to ten. By end of next week you'll could be using the tens and then the bars. Once you're on the bars you know the pressure on your arms to support your whole weight."

"I'm sorry I doubted you earlier. I never would have lasted on my own."

"That's what friends are for right?" Bruno gives him friendly pat on the shoulder. "Okay so while your arms recover let's get you down onto the mat and work on those legs."

"You're the boss," Chase teases as he arranges himself on the mat. He tries to listen to Bruno's explanation about something he did last night with his mother, his mind is really focused on the new information he learned about House. _House told Bruno my father was dead? _That somewhat bittersweet thought carries him through the rest of his session but fuels his plan to go and find House as soon as it was over.

XXXXXXXX

"And here are the dosage instructions for the sedative Dr. House," the pharmacy clerk tells House as he takes the bottle and stuffs it into his pocket; reaching for the instructions just as Chase appears at the end of the corridor.

"Foreman ever get his laptop unglued?"

"Am avoiding my office for a reason," House retorts as he folds up the piece of paper in his hand and tucks into his jacket along with the small bottle of pills.

"Who's the lucky recipient?"

"Refill. How'd your session go?"

"I'll be able to bench press Bruno by the end of the week," Chase gently smirks as they head down the hallway toward the elevators.

"Think I can sell tickets for an arm wrestling match between you two?" House ponders but mostly to himself as Chase arches his brows in wonder. "A lot would pay to see that."

"Think I'd win."

"No," House replies in such haste that Chase can't help but chuckle. "You look tired."

"I am but it's good tired," Chase tries to assure him. "Exercise is good for that. So where's the drop?"

"It can wait. You ready to go?"

"I don't mind waiting if you have another patient," Chase suggests as they exit onto the main floor.

"Nonsense, we're paid by the hour and my time's up," House jokes as they near the front entrance. "I was ready to leave anyways."

"I saw you put them in your pocket."

"I guess eye spy is out," House offers with a mock grimace. "You already have enough keeping you up at night."

"Maybe with the exercise today I'll sleep better just due to sheer exhaustion," Chase mutters as they head for the handicapped but stop. "So why did you glue his laptop down?"

"Bored. Why do you suddenly feel heavier?" House groans as he stops pushing the chair and looks down at Chase in curiosity.

"Bruno lent me a set of spare three pound weights. They make that much of a difference?" Chase asks in surprise.

"I do know what you feel like," House reminds him as they take their seats.

"So what else did you get up to today?"

"I stapled the arms together on Taub's coat," House recalls with a mock horrified expression. "The team wants you back because there will be one more person for me to torment."

"Ah see but membership does have it's privileges," Chase states seriously as the bus comes to a stop. They both say goodnight to Charlie as they head toward the front of their building.

"Membership?" House arches his brows in wonder.

"Well you can't persecute your own right?" Chase looks up with a wide goofy grin.

"Only means for every two I dish out to them I give you only one," House grins as Chase tries to offer a mock pout. "Not falling for it."

"So I'm fair game then?"

"You could always try to bribe me?" House grins.

The two of them head inside; House telling Chase about their perplexing case and Chase telling him about the start of the new week's routine and what exercises Bruno had given him to help him along at home and speed up the recovery process and get him onto the walk bars even faster.

"Okay shoo now…I'll be right there. I'll make us some after dinner coffee's."

"I get the remote then?" Chase asks with glee as he heads into the living room and reaches for the remote and quickly flips to something totally mindless.

House reaches into his pocket and pulls out the powerful sleeping sedative and looks at it with a frown; but tells himself this was for Chase's own good and it was okay to proceed. _You drugged your would-be son? _He hears Wilson's scolding tone inside his head. But on the walk to the pharmacy House had convinced himself that this was for Chase's own good to help him get at least one night of sleep and that he would only use them on certain occasions and not to the point where the younger man would get addicted.

"What's the special occasion?" Chase gratefully accepts the steaming mug of coffee.

"It's to your health," House states with a smile as he takes a sip of his coffee and gives Chase's glass a 'clink'.

"I'll drink to that," Chase replies with a grin as he takes another.

"Okay I think Double Diva's is on."

"That's about…" Chase groans and shakes his head.

"Bra fitting. It's educational," House informs him seriously.

"It's for girls."

"Some men have nice boobs," House quips as Chase looks at him with a dry expression. "Well they do. Mr. Nakamura for example…he's at least a C cup."

"We are not having this conversation," Chase quickly changes the channel; chuckling as he holds the remote out of House's reach. But House doesn't put up too much of a fuss as Chase flips to something else and within seconds the two of them have a new show and a new set of actors to mock.

About ten minutes later, Chase's head plops down on House's shoulder as he had predicted. House's lips merely twist upright into a contented smile as he makes no attempt to move just yet. About half hour later Chase's breathing had fallen into a steady rhythm and it was clear the younger man was in a solid trance and he could attempt a move.

As carefully as he can, he gently maneuvers Chase into his wheel chair, the younger man gently stirring and offering a sleepy grunt but making no attempt to awaken. House manages to get Chase into his bed, pulls up the coves and offers his docile expression and endearing smile before he whispers goodnight and turns out the light; telling himself at least Chase would get some solid rest. _Rowan's not worth his health, _was the reasoning thought that carried him into his own dark realm of slumber.

XXXXXXXX

"How'd you sleep?" House inquires the following morning.

"Actually better."

"Must have been the exercise," House offers before Chase can ponder any other line of reasoning.

"Feel almost energized," Chase states with a broad smile.

"Enough to put on that maid costume and vacuum?" House grins.

"Too tired to shave my legs last night," Chase replies with a smirk of his lips.

"How about the apron and headpiece?" House playfully wags his brows.

"Not on your life," Chase insists as he watches House pull open a drawer and pull the very thing they were talking about. "You're not serious."

"Ah hands down," House swats Chase's hand back and puts the dress-up piece on Chase's head, affixing the strap under his chin. "Very fetching."

"I better get a good tip for this," Chase remarks dryly as he looks at his reflection in a small mirror.

"Well I'd like to stay and play House with you all day," House laughs at his own lame joke once again swatting Chase's hand away from his chin as he pulls his phone and takes a picture of him with the goofy hat on top. "For my Facebook page."

"That better not be made public," Chase warns as House gives him a hurt expression. "Not giving in this time," Chase replies firmly.

The silly banter carries on a bit longer before House takes his leave and Chase is left at home; his schedule always starting a bit later. With the silly headpiece still on his head, Chase goes about the small bit of vacuuming before he reaches for his lunch box and starts to pack it, always putting the small rubber ducky on top and unconsciously giving it a smile before closing the lid and leaving the apartment.

"Afternoon Robert House," Bruno greets him, Noel/Carl looking up in haste.

"What? You really are related? How horrible for you," Noel/Carl quips as he walks past and heads toward his own client.

"What's that all about?" Chase inquires in wonder.

"This," Bruno smiles as he holds up his phone, letting Chase look at the picture on the wide display; a few seconds later Chase's eyes widening in shock.

"I swear it's a good thing the man is a genius because otherwise he'd be broke. When did he do this?" Chase asks with a groan as he looks at a picture of himself, taken that morning, posted to Facebook with the words, Robert House, world's cutest maid typed in bold below.

"When was this taken?"

"This morning. I told him not to do it," Chase huffs as he shakes his head but at the same time can't help but smile as the use of the last name after his.

"You two joke around a lot like that?" Bruno asks with a small hint of sorrow.

"Now and again," Chase tries to downplay the fun moments he shares with House. "Who else can see this?" He quickly shifts the conversation's direction."

"Just you…me," Bruno laughs, prompting Chase to look at him in wonder again. "He's tagged me as Cousin Bruno and Dr. Wilson as Uncle Wilson and said it was posted by Father House. That's kinda funny. Sort of a dysfunctional family. But…it's kinda cool. I don't have family right and my mom…well she's not into stuff like this so being included in this is really neat," Bruno states with a hint of happiness that Chase can't scold House for. Much like himself, Bruno comes from a very broken family where he often complained that he didn't feel a part of. But the four of them seemed to bond together under House's direction and he couldn't fault House's intentions for including all of them in his silly games. "Yeah my mom thinks Facebook is someone with a book over their face," Bruno easily laughs.

"That's all that was tagged?"

"That's it. You mad at him?" Bruno wonders.

"I want to be," Chase sighs as they head into the lunch room. "But I just can't. Plus it was kinda funny."

The two of them talk a bit before Bruno heads back into the physio area to finish up with his previous client, leaving Chase to eat his lunch before he rejoined him, ducky in hand and ready to get down to business. After the session Chase heads up to House's office, a scolding on his mind.

"Yes he charges by the hour and yes he'll be there with the headpiece on," House grins as Chase enters his office and offers a horrified expression. "I'm on hold. Trust me you're too valuable to rent by the hour."

"Better by the day then?" Chase retorts as he watches Foreman enter. "How's the laptop?" He can't help but ask.

"Nothing is sacred in this place," Foreman groans. "How's the therapy coming?"

"Should be on the walking bars by the end of the week Bruno's told me."

"Kids rush everything these days," House rolls his eyes as Chase looks at him with pursed lips. "Next week."

"I'm progressing," Chase confirms in haste.

"Good to hear. House needs someone here to keep him in line."

"Wilson's been slacking," House tells Chase seriously. "Time's up we're leaving."

"I just need a second."

"Don't touch anything," House warns Chase as he slowly ambles past. Chase pulls up to House's desk all set to use the computer for something when he notices a file marked 'ozzie land' and can't help but open it. He sees various notes scribbled, his father's name, the name of the hospital, the type of cancer and a few choice curse words. "What punishment can I give you for not listening?" House asks as his hands cover Chase's eyes.

"You called my father?" Chase asks softly as his hands try to pull House's hands away from his eyes.

"I called the hospital to confirm he had cancer and then I told you," House tells him in partial truth as he pulls his hands away and turns Chase around to face him. "Any other stupid questions?"

"Guess not."

"Time to go home now."

Satisfied with the answer, Chase gives House a nod and turns to follow. "At least you found that out. I've been told I'm the last person my father wants to know anything."

House's face droops with Chase's forlorn expression; his mind racing to find something funny to tell Chase to perk up the younger man's mood. But just as they enter the elevator his phone buzzes to life and he's quick to pull it and read the text.

_'Dr. Greg Chase. This is Dr. Nelson. I just wanted to give you an update. Your brother has maybe a month left. We thought he might have lasted longer but it seems we were wrong. I'm sorry for this and will let you know anything further. He's at peace and am sure you'll take comfort in that. We'll be in touch.'_

"Actually I'd prefer him suffering," House absently states as Chase looks up in wonder. "Something Wilson said."

"What was it?"

Just before House can answer the doors open and Wilson appears and House feels his world suddenly halt.

"Should I ask what Uncle Wilson said?" Chase persists innocently as House feels his stomach sink; wanting to curse Wilson for his poor timing and now wondering what he'd say to Chase and how he'd back out of the mess he created.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay so had to add a bit more tension in there for our father/son duo. Rowan's about to kick the bucket, Chase is on his way to getting on the walking beams and House is slowly getting caught in his own tricks. Had to toss in a bit of humor and as always some Bruno/Chase friendship and some Wilson/House banter. What other part of House's plan will come into play up next and what fear of House's might finally come to realization? Please do review before you go and thanks so much.


	22. A Leap of Faith

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 22 – A Leap of Faith**

**A/N: **Hey everyone so glad you are liking the story so far! Have just a bit more to go here but a few have asked who I picture Bruno as and not sure if any of you have ever watched CSIMiami but it's the actor who played Walter (Omar Benson Miller). I loved CSIM and his interactions with the team, plus he was big and friendly lol so figured he'd play well opposite our beloved Chase. Hope that didn't dissolution anyone but for me writing it helps to have a character in mind to make the OC a bit more real (facial expressions, mannerisms and such). Okay thanks everyone and enjoy the update!

* * *

"Tell me what?" Wilson asks with a suspecting smile just as House looks at him and can only curse his best friend's very bad timing.

"He wants to know about Karl Fardman," House interjects in haste.

"He…does?" Wilson's eyes fix on House as House tries to gesture for him to just play along. But at that same moment, Chase looks up and House quickly scratches his throat and looks down with a forced smile before both look back at Wilson.

"So what about poor Karl?" Chase dares to inquire.

"He uh…" Wilson gently stammers as House tries to give him the 'cutting his throat' symbol. "Wasn't someone I liked very much. Don't think I should say more," Wilson admits weakly.

"Fair enough," Chase replies, having to respect Wilson's decision.

"Must be nice to have banker's hours," Wilson retorts as he pushes past and heads for the stairs, texting House along the way. _'You owe me an explanation!'_

"So will I learn the whole story some day?"

"There are certain things that children don't need to know," House smirks as they head for the exit doors. "So that's a no."

On the bus ride home, House glances over at an usually quiet Chase and frowns; reaching out to poke him and being rewarded with a small smile in return. "Cat woman got your tongue?" He teases; this time eliciting a small chuckle from Chase in return.

"When you called the hospital, who did you speak to?"

"Not Rowan Chase," House replies with a small hiss as Chase looks at him in wonder. "I didn't trust him then and I don't trust him now."

"Okay."

House hears Chase's quick reply and looks at the younger man with a small frown. "I told the truth so why is my duckling sad?"

House didn't toss around the affectionate nickname on a whim; but the times he does can't help but bring a warm smile to Chase's lips despite his inner agitation.

"Do you think…" Chase stops and then looks back out the window, pauses for a few seconds and then back at House.

"Just ask."

"You might not like the question," Chase replies in haste.

"Has that stopped you before?" House counters to which Chase's face can only soften – somewhat. But as soon as he gives House a nod and takes a deep breath, his anxiety-filled expression returns.

"You might call whoever told you he has cancer and ask them to tell you when he died? You know…when it happens. So then you could tell me?"

House hears the soft pleading in Chase's tone and looks at the almost boyish innocence on the younger man's face as the bus comes to full stop and feels his heart sink. The truthful request of Chase's question forces him to mentally berate himself for being so devious in this matter in the first place.

"Come on, don't want to miss our stop," House mentions softly as he stands up and gestures for Chase to get off the bus as he slowly follows. "I will," House promises Chase in all honesty telling his inner conscience, aptly named Wilson, to shut up he got the point. They enter the quiet apartment, House pulling away and Chase watching him head for his bedroom and close his door; his mind now wondering if perhaps he had overstepped a few boundaries in asking House for the favor of finding out the date of his father's passing.

Without taking off his coat, Chase slowly wheels himself toward House's bedroom door, giving it a ginger knock before pushing the door open and watching as House emerges from his bathroom and looks at him in wonder.

"If you don't want to…well it won't matter much I guess."

"But it matters to you? So I'll do it for you," House reminds him pointedly. "Besides it's better if I find out anyways," House states seriously as he walks up to Chase and looks down, placing both hands on Chase's handlebars and leaning in closer. "He doesn't deserve another minute of your time worrying about him."

"Thank you."

"Make it up to me," House pulls back with a grin as Chase arches his brows in wonder.

"I'm not putting the maid's hat back on."

"Apron?" House pushes.

"No."

"Damn," House retorts with a mock groan as Chase's lips lightly chuckle as he lets House help him remove his jacket and then head into the living room. "Thought we could watch in the living room."

"And get crumbs on the floor? I just vacuumed," Chase says in a mock accusatory tone. "You get crumbs on the floor and you'll be wearing the maid hat next."

"But the Real Housewives of Vancouver is on," House replies with a mock pout. "It's the season finale."

"Vancouver?"

"I like their accents."

"They don't have accents," Chase groans as he puts the casserole dish in the oven. "Now don't pick young man you'll ruin your supper," Chase tells House in his best fake House accent, earning a small chuckle and hair ruffle.

"But we are watching it after supper."

"Hockey game is on. Jocks trump fluuzies every time," Chase states as he reaches for two wine glasses and holds them up to House as he fills them both half full.

XXXXXXXX

"Watching porn?" House comes up to Chase in front of the laptop about half hour after supper.

"Hardly. Checking on um…flight times and such. I know it won't be an easy trip. I was just…curious. Would be a miserable journey right? And I could still be on crutches and not able to move around very well…" Chase buries his face in his hands and then moves two fingers to look at House as feels some movement to his left. "I know the flying time will be almost 24 hours and…" he pauses and looks down at his legs and frowns.

"And you will be confined to your seat…"

"Economy at that. Forgot how expensive the tickets are," Chase states in truth as he turns away from the computer. "Is the game on?" Chase tries to change the subject as House nods and pulls back; taking some small comfort in the fact that Chase didn't want to go down and spend more time with a man that wouldn't appreciate him being there. But even paying his final respects would be a long, painful trip and monetarily taxing; something he wouldn't want to wish on his duckling no matter the reasons.

"Bruno's coming over tomorrow night," Chase calls back as he reaches the living room; House's eyes still fixed on the computer screen as he looks at the flight times and price options. He closes the window before he heads into the living room and watches as Chase pulls himself onto the couch and looks up with a weary smile. _He looks tired…he needs…no doesn't need any more drugs, _House's inner conscience starts to remind him. _You need to work on building trust – tire him out naturally. Don't use a sleeping sedative!_

"How'd you sleep last night?"

"Better."

"Not thinking about _him_ right before bed will help free your mind and help you sleep better. Course you could always borrow some of my mediation CD's."

"Those aren't the sounds of whales or the ocean you listen to," Chase retorts dryly as House offers him a wide grin.

"You can still borrow them," House suggests seriously.

"I'll take my chances with some warm milk," Chase replies with a 'no thank you' tone before he flips to the hockey game. Not really needing permission, House slowly moves himself into position by Chase's feet and pulls them over his lap and then gently raises the right one in the air; directing Chase to see if he could hold it on his own strength before he'd gently lower it back down.

"Four seconds is better than two last week," House genuinely praises as he slowly lifts the left leg and repeats. "How's this feel?"

"See if I say you're taking pleasure in inflicting pain on me, at this moment it's not a bad thing," Chase replies with a weary smile as House relifts the right leg and instructs Chase to try to hold it in the air for as long as possible. Since he knows Bruno was working with his upper body during their regular session, tiring out his heart after hours wasn't a plan that he was about to put into play.

"I think my duckling has…ah yes…here it is…"

"House…st-stop…." Chase starts to giggle as House's fingers press into the sensitive spot in his bare foot.

"The sweet spot," House continues for a few minutes, delighting in the sound of Chase's laughter filling the room.

"I…co-concede…defeat," he flops back down in a mild sweat. "Here…" he hands House the remote as House promptly changes the channel.

"Told you they have nice accents," House grins as Chase looks up to see the sordid reality show on the big screen.

"Give that back," Chase lifts his upper body at the same time House lifts his left leg and utters a small gasp that instantly forces House to gently lower his leg back down. "It's okay," Chase utters in haste as House looks at him in concern.

"Robert, what is it? What hurts?" House tenderly implores.

"My back actually. Just felt a twinge in my lower back and hips but it's okay. Don't stop," Chase answers in truth. "I could use the distraction," Chase replies but when House hesitates, Chase urges him to continue. "I need this, please."

House gives Chase a brief nod as he continues, helping Chase with a few more reps until the younger man tires naturally and he helps him to bed. As soon as Chase is tucked in, House heads back to the computer and pulls ups the main travel page that Chase is looking at and then spies the basket.

"Delete," House mutters as he empties the contents and then closes out the page. "Better off," House whispers as he leans back in his chair and then looks at the blank screen. "I can't let him go."

XXXXXXXX

"Explain to me why I had to play along with a lame college prank in front of Chase last night?" Wilson demands of House the following morning. "We only use that to get out of sticky situations with people we don't like and that was like 10 years ago."

"I don't like Rowan Chase. See it worked. Did you bring me donuts?"

"Rowan…what? No they had nothing fresh. And what did it have to do with Rowan Chase? Robert was in the elevator with you not his father," Wilson reminds him in exasperation.

"This," House holds up the text message for Wilson to read.

"And you didn't tell Robert about this? He needs to know this."

"He said he only wants to go to the funeral and asked me to tell him when that is."

"He actually asked you? For real?" Wilson queries in surprise.

"Cross my heart and hope to…well you know."

"That isn't the boy scouts salute," Wilson groans. "Being honest with someone you care about means sharing _everything_; not picking and choosing."

"He needs to worry about getting better and concentrate on his therapy not spend endless nights worrying about a man that could care less if he lived or died," House answers firmly.

"Your reasoning however well intentioned is still mis-guided. That's not your call," Wilson tells him firmly. "It's Roberts, as a grown man."

"Robert will be fine. I will tell him."

"House…"

"I really want a donut. Think they have carrot?" House gets up only to have Wilson stand in front of him. "I know what I'm doing," House tries to explain as Wilson holds his ground. "He called down there and his father's doctor basically told him where to go. He said he wants to go to the funeral and I have to respect that…or at least accept it. I don't have to respect it," House gently stammers.

"He will come back."

"I know, I'll make sure of it."

"House," Wilson groans as House manages to sidestep him and head for the door. House turns back to Wilson with a small frown before he smiles. "I hate that look," he sighs as he follows after House.

XXXXXXXX

"You sure you're not too tired after all the activity today?" Bruno asks Chase as he enters the quiet apartment.

"Actually I need the distraction."

"Your old man again?"

"I'm trying not to dwell upon it but now I find myself wondering if each day's going to be the day I have to think about putting the ticket price on my credit card and if when I get there I'll have to say a few words," Chase's voice nervously rattles off as he turns and heads for his bedroom, Bruno slowly following but not saying anything. "I don't know how much control he'll have after he's dead and I'm not sure I'd even want to say a few words," Chase pauses as he turns and looks up at Bruno with a weary glance. "Sorry for unloading."

"Ah no worries," Bruno replies with a warm smile. "Can't be easy especially when you're still trying to get back on your feet right?"

"And I should be concentrating on that instead of wallowing in my own personal misery."

"Now you sound like Dr. House," Bruno interjects with a small smirk.

"Actually…they were his words," Chase groans as he shakes his head; Bruno offering him a small chuckle. Bruno tells Chase he'll meet him in the bathroom, Chase starting to get undressed and then reaching for something clean to change into. His upper body was gaining strength each day; his determination to walk again, evident to all around him.

"I'm guessing that Dr. House has been helping you with your exercises at home right?" Bruno asks as Chase wheels himself into the bathroom and prepares to remove his boxers; Chase delighting in Bruno's warm casual use of the term 'home' with application to his new living arrangement with House. _This is home, my home – where I belong._

"It shows?"

"It does and it's great. I'm happy he's helping you; makes my job a whole lot easier," Bruno states with an easy laugh as he turns on the hot water and Chase wheels into place. "Okay…up you come."

True to Bruno's words, as soon as Chase's arms grip the sides of the shower stall handicap bars, his once evident trembling isn't as prominent and he's able to hold himself longer and with a bit more confidence.

"Feels better right?"

"Much," Chase admits with a soft tone as Bruno gently massages his legs. "Think I'll be ready for the bars next week?"

"Hey man I know you're anxious and we can try but you know if something starts to go wrong…" Bruno kindly warns.

"I'll tell you right away," Chase agrees in haste. He's actually able to hold himself upright for most of the shower; only near the end did he tire and allow Bruno to help lower him back down into the bathing chair. When he had first started, the tingling sensations were only felt around the ankles, now from the weight, pressure and small movement of his body ,was felt almost into the mid-thigh region and for that he was thankful. Of course his upper body strength wasn't being as tested when he was stationary or even when using the weights on the floor; it would come when he was upright and trying to move himself along the beams.

"Alright nice and clean. I'll let you finish up on your own," Bruno tells Chase as he ducks into the hallway to dry and change before House could get home. With his mood elevated, Chase starts to dry himself off and telling himself that he wasn't about to dampen the mood by bringing up or even dwelling on his father's impending funeral. It wasn't fair to him and it really wasn't fair to House. House. As he slumps back in the bathing chair he can't help but wonder now how his words about his father would be affecting House. _He can't be happy I'm talking about him but he understands right? Maybe? Maybe not? He's taken me in and I care about him…not fair to put him through emotional hell with my constant frustration over a man who hates me. _

"That is messed up," Chase groans about himself as he hears the door slowly open. "Took a bit longer than expected, sorry Bruno."

"Am sure he won't mind," House's warm voice is heard as Chase looks up in wonder. "He's helping with supper. Need a hand?"

"Yes," Chase replies with a soft whisper as House helps him into the regular wheelchair and hands him his underwear. "I was thinking…"

"Dangerous pastime for you," House interjects as Chase's lips reward him with a soft smile.

"I have to apologize House. I know you hate my father and I have been stressing about him around you and it's not fair and I hope you don't think I'm a burden to…" Chase tries only to have House gently push his finger to his lips and stop his speech.

"I hate what he is to you…a stranger and a tyrant," House gently corrects. "And I don't mind you talking to me. Remember I told you it's a burden I don't mind bearing. So if you want to talk about him, talk away. I just don't like the fact that it keeps you up at night," House admits in a low tone; not wanting Bruno to hear his full out emotional confession. "So put the thought that it bothers me when you tell me what's in your heart or troubling you far away because it doesn't. That's part of what I'm here for."

"And the other part?"

"Well someone has to wear my maid's hat," House replies with a chipper tone as Chase offers a small chuckle. "Don't worry about things like that. Concentrate on walking."

"Okay," Chase agrees as he finishes dressing and then both of them head into the kitchen where Bruno had pulled out some plates and was asking if Uncle Wilson was going to join them.

"Yes and then we'll play Twister," House grins.

"You know when you start walking, you'll have no excuse not to play," Bruno teases Chase as Chase looks up with a mock cross expression; the rest of the table laughing at Chase's mild embarrassment.

XXXXXXXX

"Okay so you can say I told you so," Chase states firmly as he wheels into House's office after his Friday afternoon session; coming to rest before the older man's desk, his body tired after his somewhat vigorous workout.

"Told you so," House replies with a wide grin. "What am I right about?"

"I put aside my family frustration and get to start on the walking beams next week," he tells House proudly.

"My boy got A+ in gym," House teases as Chase smiles and nods. "Shall we celebrate?"

"Sushi?" Chase asks eagerly.

"Raw fish it is."

Chase resists the urge to betray his own personal happiness by asking if House had heard anything but reminds himself that in this he would have to trust House to tell him if he was able to find out. He knows inside his mind that there is the slim possibility that House still might tell him after the fact, but inside his heart he leans on trust for House to do the right thing.

They head for the restaurant making casual, small talk about Chase's session today; Chase telling House how Bruno gave him a small taste on the walking beams and at first how nervous he was but then told himself it's where he wanted to be and was able to last a bit longer than expected.

"Just don't rush and do yourself harm," House kindly reminds Chase after they had settled into the handicapped booth in their favorite sushi restaurant. "A further setback would be worse than you waiting an extra week."

Chase's mind delights in the concerned and loving tone and can only nod in agreement as he knows that if he was to be set back by his own eager short-sightedness he'd be mad at himself but only have himself to blame this time.

"Here try this," House offers something he ordered that Chase merely frowned upon.

"What is it?"

"Try it first."

"Should I be worried?" Chase asks with some hesitation as he uses his chopsticks to take the foreign looking morsel and then brings it to his nose.

"It's not a drug to snort," House quips.

"Did you know that sensory perception when it comes to items ingested…" Chase's voice trails off as House looks at him with a mock cross expression; forcing Chase to put the morsel into his mouth and chew. "It's uh…chewy…what is it?"

"Cow testical," House retorts as Chase nearly chokes and reaches for a napkin.

"Liar," Chase sputters. "What is it really?" He asks as he reaches for the nearest glass of green tea to rinse out his mouth.

"Sea urchin," House replies as he takes another bite. "Tasty right?"

"Well I won't be offering to arm wrestle you for what's left," Chase offers in truth as he reaches for something he recognizes.

"Bet you could win after this week," House praises as they ask for round two; another mixed platter with items both new and old. After their enjoyable meal, the two of them slowly head back for the bus stop to wait; talking about the week, House's trick on Foreman's new laptop; Wilson's disdain for the new carrot flavored donuts and Noel/Carl caught talking to Chase's rubber ducky in private.

About half hour after they had arrived home, House heard only silence coming from Chase's room and slowly makes his way toward it. "Robert you descent?" He calls out in wonder.

"If I wasn't you'd still come in anyways right?" Chase retorts with a small chuckle.

"As I said before, you don't have anything I haven't seen before – literally," he drawls as Chase nods and smiles. "What is that?" House asks as he looks at the small tablet in Chase's grasp. He had expected to see some information on Quantas flights to Melbourne, but thankfully it was pictures that Chase was perusing. "Can I see?"

"Course," Chase entreats as House makes his way over to his bed and plunks himself down on the left side. "Bruno sent me some of my progress. And it looks like…"

"Wilson took those."

"How can you tell?"

"I just know. Let's see the rest," House requests.

The two of them casually look through the electronic picture album, both making comments until House takes the tablet and calls up his own Facebook page and shows Chase a few extra "family" pictures he posted under a new album aptly titled "family," some public and some private.

"I like the folder picture," Chase snickers as he looks at a picture of four ducks; each with something that would identify them as belonging to the four principal members of the folder. "Looks like Uncle Wilson."

"Yeah," House beams. "Has his hair."

Chase can only roll his eyes at the lame comment about the rubber ducky next to the one wearing glasses but delight in the inner feelings of happy contentment. House continues his dissertation into the family album only to look down about ten minutes later and see Chase fast asleep beside him. He offers the younger man's peaceful expression a warm smile before he takes the chance to plant a brief kiss on the top of his head, pulling back and praying he didn't awaken. Chase didn't awaken.

"My boy," he whispers affectionately as he remains in place a bit longer; happy that Chase was now sleeping on his own and probably would the rest of the night.

XXXXXXXX

"Okay you're banned from drinking any more coffee," House quickly snatches the coffee pot from Chase's somewhat shaky grasp.

"I'm actually nervous. I had nightmares last night about falling on my face and everyone laughing."

"It'll be a slow and frustrating process but Bruno will not let you fall on your face," House reminds him in truth. "One baby step at a time."

"I know…I can do this," Chase reminds himself firmly.

"Course you can. If not…well I just might have to boil you up and eat you."

"Boil?"

"Bathtub's bigger than the stove," House replies as he takes a sip of coffee; earning a purse-lippped frown from Chase in return and grinning. "Go easy on Bruno."

"I will."

Chase offer's House a goodbye and then goes about making his lunch for the day and then pausing to look down at his legs. Walking. It was something he had always taken for granted since he could fully comprehend what the word actually meant. Now he was going to have to relearn something so…so seemingly basic. Like a child. As he sits in his place on the bus, his eyes look at those on the street around him – just walking. It was automatic; something a human did without thinking about it. You get up…you walk. You don't have to tell your brain to walk – you just do. But today he was going to be forced to actually think about the action of walking. To say he was unnerved would be an understatement.

"All set?"

"Nervous," Chase admits to Bruno in truth. "It's so basic…it's almost embarrassing."

"Ah you know there's nothing to be ashamed of right?"

"I know," Chase reluctantly agrees as he slowly wheels past and enters the quiet lunchroom. He pulls open his lunch box and stares at the contents with a glum expression before slowly closing the lid. But he knows his stomach's too tight to enjoy anything and wonders if he might actually throw up; so decides to forego lunch and concentrate on calming his nerves.

"Remember, I will not let you fall okay?"

"Had nightmares I fell on my face," Chase groans as he grips the sides of the walking beams, Bruno's strong hands on his hips.

"Got it?"

"I do."

"Okay, am gonna let go now," Bruno tells Chase as Chase's nervous blue eyes fix on the end of the path before him. _I can do this…_Chase's mind chants over and over. "It's gonna feel weird and you'll get frustrated because you expect just to walk right? So swing your legs from your hips and let's see what happens. If at anytime you feel the strain on your heart you let me know. Your arms will burn but that is natural."

aHouse quietly slips into the physio area, offering a whispered 'hello Carl' to an annoyed Noel before he heads toward the back part of the large open area. Not wanting to add to Chase's already outward physical anxiety, House hangs back behind one of the large pillars and listens.

"What do you feel?"

"I'm angry," Chase huffs as he tries to swing his hips once more. "But not…with you."

"Okay keep going," Bruno gently instructs as Chase's arms brace down on the beams and he uses all his energy to toss his seemingly uncooperative body to the left, taking a small bit of comfort that he was actually able to move to the left. "You are making great progress Robert."

"Okay," Chase wheezes as his lungs start to gently heave; his back, chest and brow drenched with sweat.

"You sound like you're really straining."

"Have to…keep going," Chase demands as he swings to the right, his body moving a few inches to the right. "Just…a bit…more," he gasps as House feels his right fist tighten around the handle of his cane. Chase's body next swings a few inches to the left. But beads of sweat had started to clear a new path down to his hand, aiming for the crook of his fist and finally seeping under his sweaty palm between the flesh and the beam so that the next swing, Chase miscalculates and he actually ends up slipping from the beams and nearly falling to the floor.

"Ahhh…Bruno…"

"I got you," Bruno tells him in haste as House looks on in horror as Chase's frame flails to get upright. "Now it's time for you to rest."

"Sor…ry," Chase wheezes as Bruno gently lowers him to the mat and he wipes his damp, flushed face with a small hand towel. "I…overdid it right?"

"I'll let House scold you at home tonight for being so headstrong," Bruno snickers, neither of them knowing House was there listening.

"He'll just say…I learned it from him," Chase replies with a smile that ends up looking like a small grimace.

"Well he'd be right and you had to learn it from someone right?"

"Right, who better than him? He has taught me well," Chase interjects with a kind tone.

"You've also picked up a few bad habits of his," Bruno grins.

"I have but he always tells me father knows best so now I can blame him for my stubbornness," Chase laughs as he rests a few minutes more. House listens to the friendly banter a bit longer before he quietly slips away with a warm smile on his face. He heads into his office and reaches for the phone.

_"Dino's bakery. What would you like?"_

About two hours later, House looks up as Chase approaches the bus stop with a flushed face; his pace a bit slower than normal. "Did you survive?"

"Barely," Chase answers with a small sigh. "Today was…well I'm just glad that Bruno has immense patience," Chase shakes his head. "My arms are tired and sore but I feel…good."

"Did you make it down the whole beam then?" House wonders.

"Not even half way. But it's a start right?"

"By the end of the week you'll be running," House replies with a small smile as Chase nods to the white box in his grasp. "Taxes."

"Taxes? Really?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it's a surprise…for me."

"From who?"

"Me," House deadpans as Chase mutters under his breath why he bothers. House asks him more about how his first walking session went as the bus heads for home; Chase returning the favor and asking House what latest pranks he pulled on the team and if they actually got a serious case taken care of.

"You think it's all fun and games when you're not there?" House retorts as they enter the quiet apartment. Chase takes off his jacket and follows House into the kitchen where he watches House place the box on the counter and then open the cupboard, pulling out two plates, forks, a large cutting knife, a bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses.

"All this for taxes?"

"Maybe."

"Okay. What's really going on?" Chase dares to inquire as he watches House cut the string around the box.

"Open and see," House suggests.

Chase gingerly opens the box and stares at the contents in shock. It was a small round cake, covered with grey fondant and perched on the top was a walking apparatus with three figures on it, one representing him on the bars, the other, supposed to be Bruno a few feet behind and one to represent House standing at the side clapping. A small rubber ducky waiting for Chase at the end of the walking bars.

"You are missing Uncle Wilson."

"I ate him waiting," House grins.

"And the filling…lemon? My…favorite."

"That it is," House replies firmly.

"What's the occasion?" Chase presses again.

"Just because I wanted to," House replies warmly; not wanting to tell him what he overheard and that for the first time in his adult life he too feels a sense of belonging and family. "Do I need a reason to spoil my favorite duckling?"

"Not at all," Chase replies as he tries to swallow back a small lump of emotion. _Just because…_as a small boy he had even just once wanted to have his father do something for him just because he wanted to. He offers a small but heartfelt 'thank you'; knowing inside that even that doesn't seem enough.

House dishes up Chase a piece of the fancy cake handing him the House figure and then House picking up the Chase one and pretending to eat it; joking that he finally gets to eat his duckling. The long tiring day is brought to a close with happy smiles, contented hearts and two people strengthening a very real and genuine family bond.

* * *

**A/N:** okay so yay Chase is well on his way to walking (I hope you have all enjoyed the natural progression to chase getting back on his feet) but Rowan's time of course is growing shorter and shorter. What happens next for our fledging family? What part of House's plan still has to play out? And how will it affect Chase if he does decide to go to Melbourne? Please do review before you go and thanks so much!


	23. Staking a Personal Claim

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 23 – Staking a Personal Claim**

**A/N: **Hey everyone! I know I usually post on Tuesday's but blame RL! So hope this was worth the wait and enjoy!

* * *

_'My boy…' 'What's the occasion?' 'Just because.' 'You've inherited Dr. House's bad habits.' 'He's always looked out for you.' 'Home…''Cared for…' 'My boy…'_

He had so many reasons to get a good night's rest but all his mind can do is keep him up pondering whether or not he should actually go to his father's funeral. "This is ridiculous," Chase groans as he reaches for the handlebars of his wheelchair and gets himself into the seat; trying to get into the hallway as quietly as possible. He nears the door to House's bedroom and can only offer a soft smirk in the dimly lit hallway before he carries on to his intended destination.

"Ah…there you are," Chase's eyes greedily widen as he pulls out the box of half eaten cake and then goes for a fork. He takes the box with the last slice of the tangy lemony goodness and heads into the living room. He places the box on the coffee table beside the couch and then arranges himself first; covering the lower half of his body with a blanket and then reaches the cake and fork.

"Just…because," he smiles to himself as he starts into the last piece of lemon cake. He savors the flavor on his tongue and closes his eyes as he remembers his happy expression upon opening the lid and seeing the scene before him that House had created and feeling boyish enthusiasm inside. Chase leans back on the couch as he savors another bite and closes his eyes, thinking back to a moment with his mother when he asked her a very telling question.

_'Think dad will come for dinner mom?'_

_'There is no reason for him to come Robert so the answer is no.'_

_'But…'_

_'It's not like you achieved something he could be proud of.'_

_'What about just because?'_

_'Just because what?' She had snapped in annoyance._

_'Just because he wants to?' A young Robert had shrugged, looking at his mother with round sad eyes._

_'Why would he want to?'_

"Just because," Chase whispers with a small huff as his voice echoes that of his own as a child before the tormented memory fades and he takes another bite of cake. House had only told him a few times that he bought the special cake just because he wanted to but those moments he cherished in his heart and would for years to come; it was the first time in his life a father figure did something for him just because he wanted to. Normally he would have suspected House up to something even after he said it was 'just because' but it was the way House had told him; the look and tone that conveyed to him that the gesture was genuine and to take it at face value.

_Why do I even want to go to the funeral? I can just send a card…send to who? Myself? _Chase's mind ponders as he takes another bite of the cake and allows his lips to utter a contented exhale. He thinks about his physio progress and despite the fact that the first session had started a bit slower than expected, Bruno had to remind him that not everyone was working on learning to walk again as well as recovering from heart surgery.

The past week, each night he had come home, House had helped him with his leg exercises; this week would be the upper body as well as the leg, allowing him full practice on the bars during his daily sessions. _Rowan Chase never would have done that, _his brain correctly surmises. But as he thinks about House's motives for helping him with his at home limb strengthening sessions his heart settles.

"Just…because," Chase repeats once more as he takes the last bite and then utters a very satisfied sigh as he puts the empty box on the table, tosses the fork inside and then rolls onto his side; pulling the blanket over him a bit further and finally falling asleep with a satisfied smile on his face; happy thoughts filling his mind as darkness finally consumes him.

XXXXXXXX

House awakens early the next morning and slowly heads into the kitchen to get some coffee and get out the door for an early morning staff meeting. But as he passes by the entrance to the living room a small glint of silver catches his eye and he stops and does a double take. He eyes the empty box of cake on the table and fixes his gaze on the contented expression on his sleeping duckling's face, before pulling away a few seconds later and resuming his original course.

His mind recalls the happy and delighted look on Robert's face the night before when he opened the box; childish enthusiasm upon receiving the humble offering that he at once feels anger in his heart surge toward his own natural father – Rowan. A cold hearted man, whom Chase told him never did anything for him just because. But his motives in buying the cake weren't to stick it to Rowan – it really was just because. And maybe because he had felt fatherly love swell upon hearing Bruno's comments and Chase's kind words in return.

"Just because," he whispers not realizing that he was being watched.

"Thought I was the only one that talked to myself," Chase states suddenly making House turn around with a small gasp. "You honestly didn't hear me coming?"

"You fixed the squeak in the right wheel," House deadpans as Chase nods and grins. "Clever. So what other late night cravings are you hiding from me?" House inquires as he takes the empty box from Chase's grasp and gives him a small suspecting glance that Chase only smiles up to. "You know I have a few recordings that might help with those."

"As I said yesterday, those aren't recordings of nature or whales."

"Some of them are," House retorts.

"Debbie does the Jungle doesn't count."

"Semantics," House grins. "Sleep well?"

"After the craving was satisfied yes actually. Thank you again."

"Next one's on you."

"Carrot filling?"

"And pistachio."

"Together? Talk about an odd combination," Chase's face gently screws.

"Sometimes it's the odd combinations that make the best and most lasting results," House pauses thoughtfully, the meaning of it referring to the two of them not lost on the younger man before him. But before he can get lost in emotional melancholy he clears his throat and proceeds. "Like chocolate and parsnip."

"Parsnip? You mean peanut butter."

"That too," House answers seriously, earning a small headshake from the younger man reaching for the coffee pot. "You know speaking of turnips…"

"Turnips? You mean parsnips?"

"You wanted turnips one time remember?" House ponders seriously as Chase lightly chuckles; House's face softening as the warm laughter fills the space and the mood lifts for both of them. "See you tonight."

"Shall I pick up some turnips?" Chase calls out as he heads for the fridge.

"I already did!" House calls back before the door closes; Chase left in the kitchen chuckling to himself.

He pulls open the fridge and sure enough offers a small snicker at the bag of beige root vegetables staring back at him. It was the casual way that House said he'd see him tonight that he also takes comfort in; finally knowing what it likes to belong to a partnership that adds stability and comfort to his once lonely daily routine. It was reassuring to know he wasn't coming back to an empty shell night after night to sit home alone or drown his sorrows in some meaningless one night stand. Whether they were doing exercises to get him walking again, playing some silly game, reading together or just relaxing in front of the TV, he wasn't alone and that was something he couldn't get enough of.

"I won father," Chase whispers with a small hiss before he closes his eyes and mentally chastises himself. On one hand he was more than delighted to be finally receiving some genuine fatherly concern from a man he looked up to and trust but on the other he almost felt guilty about not feeling more remorse at losing the man had helped bring him into the world in the first place.

"This is wrong," Chase huffs as he goes about tidying the kitchen and then sets his mind upon his physio session a few hours away.

XXXXXXXX

Chase enters the large physio area and gives Bruno a tense smile before he heads for his place; having had lunch at home and this time ready to just get down to business.

"You seem restless today," Bruno notes correctly.

"I am…I don't know why," Chase frowns as he grips the bars and tries to take his first small step.

"Your old man maybe?"

"Yeah…maybe," Chase whispers with a frown.

"Ah not there yet. You gotta make the whole length of the bar today. So one swing at a time," Bruno lightly instructs.

"I got this!" Chase growls and then stops and gives his head a small shake. "Bruno…"

But Bruno says nothing, merely guides Chase's hips for his first swing; Chase's guilt starting to eat at him instantly.

"How's this?"

"Good," Chase replies in a softer tone as he utters a small gasp and continues.

"Remember it's just you and the bars, focus on that," Bruno instructs as he notices Chase hesitating. "That's all that matters right now right?"

"Right," Chase nods with a small huff as he swings his body to the other side and then rests a few seconds as Bruno had taught him. "Me and the bars…" Chase chants as he hears his father's voice laughing at him. _'Dr. House only has you there for amusement. Once you start walking he'll toss your ass faster than you can blink.'_

"You're wrong!" Chase growls as Bruno looks at him in wonder.

"Okay man but I still think this is the Devil's year."

"What?...sorry," Chase lightly huffs as Bruno's hands on his hips rest a few seconds. "I keep hearing him laughing at me."

"What's he say?"

"I keep hearing him telling me that I'll never walk again and Dr. House will throw me out. I try not to listen to his taunts but…"

"But sometimes you can't help it right?" Bruno retorts heavily. "I know what that's like. My old man…man as soon as he heard I wouldn't make the NFL he told me I wasn't worth much at all. I was devastated. I told him I was gonna put myself through whatever I could afford and I'd get a job that would make him proud. He didn't care so I did it for me."

"Bruno…I'm so sorry."

"Ah what doesn't kill you right?" Bruno replies with a sharp smile as Chase twists his head back and nods.

"Right," Chase turns back and looks at the end of the bars with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. _My father be damned, _his mind growls but then recants as he remembers his father's on the losing end of an incurable disease and once again remorse sets in and his body gently sags into Bruno's strong grasp.

"You and the bars right?"

"Keep going…" Chase pants as he looks back to see how far he's gotten – half way.

"That's right, half way," Bruno smiles. "And we only just started. But you gotta pace yourself okay?"

"I'm…okay," Chase exhales heavily as his hands grip a few inches further and his hips swing at the same time. By the time he reaches the end of the bars, his chest is heaving and his back lightly coated with a film of sweat. "Again…" Chase looks at Bruno with a flushed face.

"We need to rest at least twenty minutes," Bruno tells him as Chase offers a small but understanding frown. Bruno gently lies Chase down on the mat and starts to do some leg exercises, wanting to keep his body producing small amounts of adrenaline and not coming to a complete rest before starting again. Chase forces himself to think on the happy memories that he and House had created the night before and within moments his agitation ceases and he's able to clear his mind and focus on getting back to the walking beams once more.

"Again…" Chase literally gasps as his lungs start to heave. But as Bruno tries to lower him, Chase's fingers grip the bars harder; his heart racing and small black spots starting to form.

"Robert?"

"Just…can't catch…my breath," Chase starts to wheeze as Bruno's hands try to keep Chase upright and pry him from the bars at the same time.

"Robert…man you gotta…let go."

"No…just a few…I'm good," Chase lies but still refusing to let go. Nausea starts to consume him, his stomach constricting and his chest still heaving. "Just need…"

"Robert!"

But just as Bruno exclaims Chase's name in a panic, House enters the quiet room.

"What's going on…Robert!" House calls out as he nears them, watching his beloved duckling in respiratory distress and his physiotherapist trying rather unsuccessfully to get him lowered from the walking bars.

"Dr. House…Noel's on break and Robert won't let go and I can't either or he'll fall," Bruno exclaims in a panic.

"I'm okay…just need…oh damn…"

"Robert, let go now," House gently but firmly instructs; Chase finally complying. "I got him," House states in frustration as he finally pries Chase's hands from the bars and helps Bruno lower his sweaty and trembling frame to the mat. "Get me a cold cloth," House instructs as he looks down as Chase's watery eyes flutter.

"Just…need…"

"Robert," House gently but firmly instructs as his hands rest on either flushed cheek and try to get him to look up. "Look at me…"

"Gotta…keep going…" Chase's mutters incoherently as his face tries to jerk to the right.

"Robert, look at me," House tries again as Chase turns back, licking his dry lips and trying to get his heart rate under control. "Take a deep breath."

"I'm…fine…" Chase pants as he squeezes his eyes shut, his chest still pumping up and down with too much vigor.

"Here," Bruno hands House the cold damp cloth.

"Robert, my boy look at me," House tenderly entreats as he presses the cold fabric to his face and then his neck; Chase's watery eyes slowly opening and looking up, trying to focus.

"Ah that worked," Bruno smiles softly as he places the other cold cloth on Chase's forehead.

"Deep breath, hold and then slowly exhale," House instructs as Chase nods and tries to take in a deep breath; his face wincing in the process. "Once more."

"I…ahhhh," Chase huffs as he closes his eyes once more but is able to take a deep breath and get his stomach to ease in its heaving.

"Very good. And again," House tells him once more; his hand feeling the temperature on Chase's neck before he pulls his stethoscope and listens to his almost erratic heart rate. "Robert…you have to get your heart rate to slow. Take another deep breath."

"Dr. House?" Bruno asks in rising concern.

"He'll be okay now," House tells Bruno as Bruno takes the cold cloth's back into the kitchen; House still at Chase's side. "What were you thinking?" House asks in concern as his hand tenderly lingers on Chase's flushed cheek.

"I thought…I could do more," Chase answers in truth as House purses his lips and frowns. "When I'm walking are you going to kick me out?"

"What?" House asks as Bruno returns and kneels down at Chase's side – opposite House.

"I'm okay now," Chase looks up at Bruno and offers him a weak smile.

"Let's get him up slowly," House instructs after about ten minutes when Chase's breathing had finally returned to normal. Chase closes his eyes as his head starts to pound a bit more as he's slowly elevated but at least his heart rate had calmed and all he can do is curse himself for the possible setback.

"That's it for today," House looks at Chase with a stern expression; giving a look that tells him not to press his luck when Chase opens his lips to try to protest. "You're not okay. Having a coronary in this man's office isn't on the agenda."

"I did two full laps today," Chase states proudly as Bruno and House each take one side and very carefully lift him back into this wheelchair, House dabbing his forehead and the back of his neck as Bruno helps him with his runners.

"You did great," Bruno genuinely praises as House helps Chase with his jacket the session comes to a close a bit earlier than expected. "If you want to rest up tomorrow…"

"I'll be okay," Chase states in haste, holding his breath and waiting for House's verbal rebuttal.

"He'll just make sure to listen tomorrow to you tomorrow," House looks down at Chase who offers a willing nod; looking up at House in mild surprise.

"Didn't mean to scare you," Chase offers Bruno in sincere remorse. A few minutes later House hand Chase his cane and slowly pushes him toward the entrance of the physio room and into the hallway. "I was fine," Chase gently groans as they head for the elevator. But when he doesn't get a response he looks up at House in wonder. "You're done scolding me? That's a first."

"You did that to yourself for _him_ right?" House asks with a small seethe to his tone; Chase's heart sinking in an instant. "That's why you asked me that ridiculous question."

Chase remains silent as he knows House is right and he only has himself to blame. But as he feels House's hand rest on his shoulder and give it a small squeeze his mood slightly lifts; slightly. The two of them make small talk on the bus ride home; mostly Chase listening to House talk about a new case and how Park and Adams were getting on his nerves.

"How's the old ticker?" House asks dryly as they enter their apartment and Chase looks up with a small frown. "I'm not mad at you; I'm mad at him for making you think about him. You're not going to lose your home unless you want to. Okay?" House leans in a bit closer and studies Chase's still somewhat flushed expression in concern.

"Okay," Chase nods as House's hand rests on his forehead. "I'm okay. But maybe I'll skip the exercises tonight."

"And here I was hoping to strap you to the treadmill and turn it on high," House quips as he pulls back with a small smile and Chase's face softens. "You know for putting me through that scare today I should make you eat the turnips raw."

"Thought it was parsnips?" Chase retorts dryly as he takes off his jacket and both of them head into the kitchen to make dinner.

The conversation mainly revolves around food as they make the roast root vegetables, chicken and a few other things that House makes for Chase specifically. After supper they head into the living room to just take it ease after the day's trying events; but it's not long before Chase's eyes close and his head lolls to the side; House looking at him in concern.

He remembers Chase's question but knows he can only blame Rowan for planting the evil seed in the first place. _Can't the old goat just drop dead already, _he huffs inside. But as he starts to think about Chase's question he wonders what it would be like if Chase left. _Lonely…miserable…quiet…boring…lonely…_he didn't want Chase leaving the nest this soon either. _He just got here…_House ponders as he looks over at the hallway that leads to Chase's bedroom and wonders if maybe the room wasn't big enough? Cozy enough? Manly enough? Chase enough? _He knows he can do whatever he wants with it right? _Maybe I could suggest we repaint the apartment; after he's walking of course, and if he has input he might finally let go of his father's stupid notion that I want him gone. House's mind starts to think on a few more things – the first two being of course Chase getting his walking papers and Rowan's funeral all taken care of. With minimal fuss, House is able to get Chase back into his wheelchair and then into his bed; hoping the next day would end without him going to bed with nightmares about watching his duckling having a heart attack and dying in his hospital while he was only a few floors away.

XXXXXXXX

"What happened yesterday?" Wilson asks House in concern as he walks into House's office the next morning.

"Robert nearly died on the floor."

"I know you're joking because you're smiling."

"I could be a sadist," House retorts.

"Well I know you're that but not toward Robert," Wilson reminds him in truth. "What really happened?"

"He nearly had a heart attack because he pushed himself due to that…ass," House's final word punctuates with a hiss.

"Rowan called him?"

"Almost wish he had and I had intercepted the call and told him to just drop dead already," House huffs as his fingers rest under his chin. "What? I don't like him, everyone knows that."

"Is Robert okay?"

"He wanted to know if when he got his walking papers I'd be kicking him out."

"Did you tell him he was crazy?"

"Told him I'd chain him to the bed," House grins as Wilson rolls his eyes. "The choice is his but I hope he decides to stay. I uh…I kinda like him around," House admits in a low tone as they both head toward his office door. "Do you know how much postage is to Melbourne?"

"You're mailing a card to Rowan?"

"Nope Cyanide."

"They'll know it was you."

"I put your name as the return address," House grins as Wilson merely shakes his head in defeat.

A few hours later, House excuses himself from an annoying patient and heads toward the elevator and then down toward the physio room; pausing just outside before entering. He gives Noel/Carl a friendly smile as he heads for the large beam, hanging back so as not to be obtrusive but wanting to ensure that Chase was taking it easier than yesterday.

"How was that?" Bruno asks as they near the end, Chase's heart racing but his chest not heaving as much as it was the day before.

"Better. I actually felt myself taking small steps."

"The last four steps were all you baby," Bruno grins widely.

"Really?" Chase asks with his own broad smile. "I actually….walked?" He asks; his voice choking and eyes instantly offering a few happy tears. House hears the humble quiver in Chase's voice and feels his own heart swell.

"You di…whoa there," Bruno rushes in before Chase's excitement can render him some pain. "You did, and I got to see it all," Bruno smiles as he gently lowers Chase to the floor in a seated position. "Now I know you're gonna get anxious and want to overdo it but we have a plan right?"

"Stick to the plan," Chase nods firmly as his hand rests on Bruno's shoulder and gives his a firm and friendly squeeze. "Thank you."

"Hey man this is the best part of the job. Seeing you make progress like this and being all happy about it, makes me feel good too."

With that happy thought also in his mind, House quietly leaves the physio area; wanting to finish his day early if possible and beat Chase to the bus.

"So how was your day?" House asks a few hours later as they prepare to board.

"Kinda uneventful," Chase shrugs casually; a small trying to be kept hidden.

"Yeah mine too," House huffs as he nods a hello to Charlie and takes his usual seat opposite Chase.

"Oh am sure yours wasn't uneventful at all," Chase retorts. "You invent stuff to make it eventful."

"I did lock one of Wilson's patients in his office."

"Why?"

"Was bored," House smiles. "How'd you do today?"

"I walked," Chase replies proudly. "I took a few steps and then rested and then a few more. Bruno says that maybe tomorrow I can get half way on my own and all the way on my own at the end of the week."

"We'll celebrate by playing Twister tonight," House proclaims loudly as the regular old woman looks at him with a scowl. "My boy's really good. You know, when he's not _pretending_ to be a cripple."

Chase merely rolls his eyes as the old woman gasps and turns away with an indignant huff; House snickering before he turns back to Chase with a mock serious expression. The mood unlike the night before is lighthearted and full of laughs and good times; Chase telling House a bit more about the amazing sensation of feeling his legs move for the first time on their own in months.

"It was surreal," Chase comments that night as House gently massages his clean bare feet. "Felt…good but surreal."

"You'll be running in no time," House praises as Chase looks up with a tender smile. House works a bit more with Chase's legs before they both call it a night; Chase falling asleep happy and rested and remaining so right until the morning. Not even giving his natural birth father another thought, Chase heads into the kitchen the following morning with a happy smile; going about getting coffee ready for them and offering House a chuckle as House walks past and gives his already mussed up hair another playful ruffle.

XXXXXXXX

"Never seen you in this much of a hurry," Wilson states almost out of breath as he catches up to House at the elevators. "Where's the fire?"

"Robert is going to try walking the entire length on his own today," House informs him proudly; it being the end of the week. "He's one determined young man."

"Gets it from you," Wilson retorts as House looks over at him in wonder. "Well you wanted to hear that right?"

"Sounds good," House answers in a quiet tone.

"Okay ready?" Bruno asks Chase as Chase's hands grip the bars and he looks up at Bruno with a nervous smile. "You've done it mostly already right?"

"With your help," Chase lightly huffs; eyeing Bruno on the other side of the walking bars.

"A few weeks practice all comes down to this. I'm right here and you'll be just fine. Remember slow and steady; deep breaths and you'll make it. Okay…whenever you're ready."

"Okay," Chase nods; not realizing that House and Wilson had slipped into the room and were silently watching from a discreet distance. His hands grip the bars and his hips swing his leg, his mind determined to get him to the end of the bars on his own no matter how long it takes. He feels a small jolt of adrenaline course through his veins as he starts into the next step; his heart rate starting to elevate.

"Deep breath right?" Bruno lightly coaches as he notices Chase slightly gasping for air. Chase pauses for a few minutes to catch his breath before continuing; House holding himself back from rushing to Chase's side in concern – telling himself this was his moment to shine and not to take away from his progress.

"Ah come on man you're doing great," Bruno encourages as House pulls away from Wilson and slowly heads toward the walking bars, gently touching Chase's back and drawing the younger man's flushed face up to him. House gives Chase a warm smile before he slowly heads toward the end of the bars to wait; Bruno still at Chase's side as per his role.

_I can do this…make my father proud…_Chase's mind states, knowing inside his mind and heart that the man waiting for him at the end of the bars was more of a father to him than his natural one and the only one who's loving support he wanted. He takes another small step, looking up at House with a flustered smile as House nods in encouragement.

"You're walkin' now," Bruno grins as Chase passes the half way point.

Despite his chest starting to heave and the sweat growing on his brow and back; Chase tells himself he has to keep going, the ending was his goal. His arms slightly falter; Bruno leaning in closer just as Chase pauses.

"I'm okay," Chase huffs as he looks at House's expression that had instantly morphed into one of concern. "I'm going to keep going."

No one dares to argue as they were all silently rooting for the young doctor to complete his task; the small steps more than encouraging. Chase nears the end and feels his arms wanting to give way; his brain yelling at them to keep going just a bit further – a bit further.

"I did it," Chase whispers, out of breath.

"You did it," House whispers warmly as Chase finally reaches the end and literally collapses into House's waiting grasp. "Very proud of you Robert," House pats him on the back, looking up at Wilson gives him a smile and nod of commendation.

"Man that was great!" Bruno states happily as he offers Chase a chair to rest on; Chase gratefully slumping down and looking up with a very flushed expression.

"Definitely gonna celebrate by playing Twister tonight," House announces as Chase looks up with a wry expression, shaking his head before he looks back at the bars and inwardly gasps at the distance he was able to cover on his own.

"I did it," Chase whispers proudly before he takes a sip of cold water and then leans back in the chair and looks at Bruno with a smile. "Thank you for this."

"That was all you. I just watched and cheered."

"Well now that the party is over," House gently slaps Chase on the back. "Time for me to get some real work done."

"You were here for the most important part; that's what counts to me," Chase reminds him as House smiles and nods before heading toward the door and a waiting Wilson who had given him two thumbs up. Chase gives Bruno a high five but as per their plan rests the full twenty minutes before he tries again. Chase rests a bit longer before tackling the bars for another round, completing his task with renewed enthusiasm.

"End of next week…these will be yours," Bruno proudly declares as he brings out a pair of crutches and hands them to Chase.

"Flames?" Chase looks at the brace pads and smirks.

"Dr. House picked them out," Bruno offers in truth as Chase looks at him in surprise. "I've learnt not to argue with him," he chuckles.

"Well it feels good," Chase admits with a weary but contented smile. In fact Chase's smile was hard to erase for the rest of the afternoon and all throughout the evening.

"Nope still there," House playfully retorts as he lowers his hand from Chase's mouth, revealing the wide grin. "Next cake will have a sprinter on it," House smiles as he pours Chase another glass of wine. The two of them linger over dinner a while longer, both content to just relax and enjoy each other's company and the special meal House had taken them out to celebrate with. They finally return to the apartment; the night ahead guaranteed to end on a good note.

The rest of the weekend is spent doing things around the apartment; the weather outside cool and drizzly and not conducive to walking around outside. House had carefully broached the subject of repainting the apartment and much to his happy delight Chase had given some serious input into what colors he wanted for his room and the spare bathroom that he had now claimed as his; hanging a sign on the door that aptly read 'duckling cave'. The weekend is capped with the two of them relaxing on the couch watching a movie and as per their usual, mocking the actors until they both fall asleep.

But despite the very restful and enjoyable weekend, House's mind is filled with agitation going into Chase's big walking week, having gotten another text message that basically stated Rowan Chase had about one more week and then that could be it. At the end of the week, when he should be celebrating with Chase, he would be handing him some upsetting news; upsetting to him maybe more so.

"Man you're gonna be running soon!" Bruno tells Chase in a happy tone half way through the week; Chase's progress vastly improved. His movements down the bars was steadily gaining strength and momentum that by the end of the week, he had gotten to the end of the bars without feeling like his chest was about to explode.

"You did it!" Bruno praises with a hearty pat to Chase's back as Chase reaches the end of the walking bars for the last time that week. He helps Chase into his chair to rest up and then heads for the corner and brings out the crutches.

"Really?" Chase asks between sips of cold water as he works on getting his heart rate lowered.

"Really," Bruno nods. But he makes sure Chase waits the entire twenty minutes before he helps him stand up, carefully affixes the crutches under his armpits and then stands back.

"Uh…" Chase huffs as his posture slightly falters; House nearing the entrance to the physio room with news he was now dreading to deliver.

"Just take a deep breath and practice what I showed you," Bruno tells hi m as House enters the room.

"I…I think I got it," Chase states happily as he looks up to see House approaching. "I can walk….well better," he stammers as he takes a few tries with the crutches and then pauses to catch his breath.

"That's great," House offers with a smile as Chase looks at his worried expression.

"House?" Chase asks softly.

"Does he get an A+?" House quickly interjects; shelving his thought to tell Chase in public.

"He sure does," Bruno grins as Chase turns around to face them. But as he looks at Bruno a small frown appears. "What's wrong?"

"You've been such a big part of…of all this, come Monday…"

"I'll still be here," Bruno tells him in haste. "Can't get rid of me that easily. 'sides we're friends right?"

"Always," Chase affirms as he nears Bruno on his crutches. Bruno gives him a warm hug and then pulls back with a hearty smile. "Feels good," Chase tells them in truth as he takes a few more strides around the large open space; House watching with a heavy heart. Bruno packs up the wheelchair, handing Chase's personal effects to House and promising Chase they'd stay in touch for sure; Chase's mind still determined to get to that ballgame with Bruno and continue to work on growing their friendship bonds.

"Today was amazing," Chase exclaims as they slowly head for the bus stop, House carrying Chase's backpack on his shoulder. "Seriously…today was…" Chase stops and then looks over at House with a frown. "You don't seem as happy as I thought you'd be," he remarks with a suddenly glum tone.

"I'm happy," House tries to reply with a tight lipped smile.

"Are you upset about me getting these?" Chase asks in a tender tone as House looks at him in anguish, his mind racing as to what he should tell him.

"No."

"Okay then…" Chase's voices dies out as House looks at him with a heavy frown; his mind and heart both racing. But he had promised Chase the truth about when his father would die and now that had happened, he had to deliver. No matter how painful to him he had to keep his word. _Just tell him!_

"Rowan Chase has died," House comes right out and informs him just as the bus pulls up and the door opens.

"Evening doctor's. Lovely night isn't it?" Charlie asks enthusiastically.

But as Chase hears the words, his happy bubble starts to slowly dissipate and his whole frame sags on the brand new crutches. And unlike the past ten days that had ended on happy notes; a dark emotional cloud now appears, taking hold of his mind and heart and promising a night ahead of tension and grief. The future was once again in question by a man not deserving of anything more than a passing thought.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay so this didn't end quite where I had wanted. I had actually planned more but since this update is already like 10 pages I wasn't sure how much more to put in and so have ended it here and hope that's okay. poor Chase right? taken up so high…and now down so low. How did you like his progress? Got a bit of peril in there but didn't want to delay him getting his crutches any longer. Would love your thoughts on this and what you think might happen now for Chase and his decision to go to this father's funeral and what House might do. Please review before you go and thanks so much!


	24. Knowing Where You Belong

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 24 – Knowing Where You Belong**

* * *

_Rowan Chase…_he wasn't about to say your father as in House's mind, Rowan Chase gave up that parental title the day he walked out on his family; and most recently treating his only son worse than one of his paid employees. He had wanted to wait until they were home, but Chase had pushed him so much that it just naturally blurted out. His mind thinks back to when he had first gotten the text.

_'Just to let you know your brother has passed. It was a peaceful passing. I can send the details if you want.'_

Of course he didn't want details on the death itself and was actually upset when he heard the old bastard had died peacefully. But he did ask when the funeral would be and was told Rowan's will had stipulated that it be exactly a week later, that he be cremated and that it be simple. House had merely replied thank you after getting the details. But as relieved as he was that Rowan was finally gone; the task of telling Robert was emotionally terrifying. He knew Robert would show some remorse but seeing his duckling sad at part of his own doing, was almost too much to bear. But…it had to be done. So he told him as he has promised. Regrettably.

"Oh," is all Chase manages, looking at House with a tight lipped expression as he tries to hold back a few confused tears. Within seconds he turns around, nods to Charlie and heads for a seat to sit down on instead of his usual wheelchair bay.

"So nice to see you out of the wheelchair Dr. Chase," Charlie comments as House slowly moves past and takes the seat opposite Chase across the aisle.

"Feels good," Chase numbly responds as he looks at House with a soft frown; House looking back in remorse as Chase's eyes threaten to brim but don't.

In truth, his mind and heart were not hurting for the loss of Rowan Chase; his passing would not be mourned by the older man, it was seeing his beloved duckling so sad at news he had just delivered. He can only admire Chase's brave exterior as a few more slowly file onto the bus and then it pulls away – a quest to complete it's nightly routine now underway. After a silent ride to their apartment both get off the bus and head for the front door.

"You move around on those things pretty good," House lightly comments as they near the front door, Chase mumbling a small thank you as he slowly moves past. House's brow can only furrow into a heavy crease as he looks over at Chase in wonder.

"I'm…" he pauses as the elevator reaches their floor and both head toward the apartment. "I'm sorry he's dead but I don't feel as bad as I should and I think that's frustrating me," Chase confesses with a heavy sigh as they enter the quiet apartment.

"Let's talk," House gently steers Chase toward the living room first; him easing himself down into his chair opposite the couch and Chase easing himself down onto the couch and looking at House in mild agitation. "I hate to see you sad like this but it's understandable."

"Is it?" Chase gently hisses. "The man walked out on me as a small boy and never looked back; came back here for a visit and withheld life altering information from me and told only you and told you not to tell me. Then he proceeded to offer some false help when I nearly died and when I refused him he removed me from his will."

"Lots to admire," House retorts sourly before giving himself an invisible head slap.

"Why am I even conflicted?"

"Because you always choose to see the good in people; a fault I sometimes find annoying, like now but one I can't blame you for because it's also endearing. Something I also find annoying," House lightly grumbles; his words bringing a more relaxed expression to Chase's face. "As I said before, you've always been the better man."

"You don't think I should go right?"

"This is your decision and yours alone," House leans back and looks at Chase directly. "You want to go and pay your last respects for whatever reason is up to you."

"Flights are expensive," Chase ponders.

"And it would be a very long flight with those," House reminds him.

"Twenty three hours," Chase groans as he looks down at his legs and then up at the crutches. "Even without those, economy class will be painful."

"Very."

"You're not helping," Chase retorts with a small grimace.

"Sorry," House purses his lips as he slowly stands up. "I'll make dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"I wasn't asking, I was telling. You need your strength now," House interjects as Chase merely nods.

Chase watches House take his leave and then looks back, his mind now trying to piece together whether he should even bother to pay the expense and suffer the long flight there and back for a man who virtually cursed his very existence. _ I could send a card…_his mind offers almost comically and then stops as he realizes he'd be sending it to himself. _No one would even know…_until they read who he's survived by. _Me. _

"Ah damn it!" Chase curses as he tries to reach for the crutches and ends up knocking them over, just out of reach. He hears a soft shuffle and looks up to see House watching him in concern. "At least I didn't fall on my face right?"

"Right because you've already done that," House replies pointedly as he hands Chase back his crutches and then gently takes Chase by the elbow and helps him stand.

"I'm torn," Chase huffs almost under his breath.

"Trust me no one can see anything," House lightly smirks as Chase arranges himself on the crutches and looks at him in agitation. "You know my stance, but no matter what you'll have my support."

"You'd support me going?"

"Just don't expect me to be in favor of it, but if you want support you have it," House assures him firmly. "Supper's ready."

The two of them head into the kitchen but the conversation is strained and kept to a minimum; Chase not wanting to talk about his recently deceased father but also feeling guilty at being such poor company in front of someone he cares about very much.

"Turnips are actually pretty good."

"Wilson's recipe."

"Really?" Chase asks in surprise. "House…"

"I know you're going to go so stop sitting there feeling like you're about to commit the unforgivable sin. Can't fault you for losing sense and reason now and again," House quips as Chase's inner countenance somewhat settles. "I understand."

"Do you really?" Chase genuinely inquires.

"I do. When I was told of news of my father passing the first thought was…I missed the funeral. Not because I felt a sudden sense of loss or even some sudden realization that I wanted to know him or might have had some feelings for him. I felt I should have done it out of obligation because I was his son and that's what you're feeling now. Being kind is never a waste of time."

"You say it can make people weak."

"You're not weak," House firmly praises. "If you were you would have caved to that bastard long ago, but you haven't; no matter what he's done you've always proven yourself the bigger man. And I know no matter what, if you don't go out of that inner obligation you'll regret it. Otherwise we'd already be playing Twister," House lightly chirps before his face becomes serious. "Carrot cake for dessert. Ducklings like carrots," he smiles as he gets up and heads for the fridge.

As much as Chase wants to argue with House about his inner motivation, he can't. He knows the older man is right and despite the cost and personal discomfort he would regret it if he didn't go. The money he could pay back and the travelling cramps would pass; but there would only ever be one funeral. Rowan had requested he be cremated; no headstone and his monetary fortune was willed to the foundation charity of his hospital.

Chase settles back in his chair, listening to House rattle on about the actual nutritional value of carrot cake; but his mind now wondering about the cost of plane tickets and if he'd actually make it there in time for the funeral. Later that night, Chase arranges himself in bed and opens his laptop, calling up the Qantas website and starting to search for ticket prices.

As much as he didn't want to be stuck in a near fetal position for twenty three hours, when he looks at the price for the business class ticket, his heart literally sinks.

"I can practically buy a new car for that," he groans as he looks at the time and then rubs his weary eyes. A few minutes later he closes the laptop, puts it at the end of the bed, turns off the light and closes his eyes; not holding out much hope for a restful evening.

XXXXXXXX

As he had suspected, Chase's tired eyes open a few moments before he normally awakens, rolling over and looking at the clock and cursing. A soft shuffle draws his sleepy gaze upward to see House watching him in concern.

"Did I wake you?" Chase inquires as House nears the bed and eases himself down at the end.

"No. Didn't sleep much and I can tell you didn't either."

"No I didn't," Chase groans as he rolls onto his back. "Kept seeing myself arriving at the funeral and my father greeting me at the door and telling me to leave as I wasn't invited."

"Did you throw a piece of cake in his face?" House retorts as Chase looks up with a small smirk.

"Actually I hit him with one of my crutches," Chase answers as House offers him a wide grin. "Thought you'd be happy about that."

"Wilson says I'm a sadist," House nods seriously.

"You are," Chase agrees as he slowly sits up and stretches. "Feels odd to have my legs moving on their own now."

"Treadmill's available," House gestures with his head as Chase's face softens into a soft chuckle. "I'll start the coffee."

House gets up and clears the doorway just as Chase's phone rings; his footsteps slowing as he rounds the corner but then hangs back to listen – proving to himself that some old habits die hard.

"Sean is that you? Yeah…it's been a long time. What's going on?" Chase leans back to continue his conversation. "Yes I know, yesterday. Thank you. No we weren't that close. Yes I was thinking of going. Really? An opening? How much? Wow yeah…I mean that's a great salary but...well a lot has happened and…what? Really? He did. No…I uh…well we weren't close but…that's a great offer."

_Offer? Opening?...great salary? _House's mind spins in circles as he hears Chase's voice pause before the conversation changes from business to personal and then concludes about ten minutes later. But House had only listened to the professional part, his heart sinking further and further as he silently ponders the thought of his beloved duckling leaving him for good. _I can't let Rowan have the last laugh, _his mind seethes as he hears Chase nearing the entrance to the kitchen.

"These aren't as silent," Chase comments lightly as House gestures for him to sit. Unlike when he was in the wheelchair he'd have to sit down before taking his coffee or risk spilling the hot coffee on himself.

"Who called earlier? Business or pleasure?"

"Friend from Melbourne. Heard about my father passing and…personal I guess. Good guy but we weren't close."

_That's good, _House's mind wants to utter but his lips hold back the sarcastic comment in favor of a friendly nod and then asking a few questions about who had called and how Chase knew him. Chase feels the slight stiffness between House and can't fault him as he knows the older doctor's disdain toward his birth father. But after House leaves, Chase heads for the laptop to look at ticket prices once more and then wanting to attempt at having a shower on his own.

Bruno had told him that as long as he had the bathing chair handy he could attempt it alone but his advice was to either use the chair when alone or wait until House was back and the chair was nearby. But first it was looking at ticket prices.

"Is it worth it?" Chase groans as he leans back in his chair and looks at the final ticket price comparison. His eyes dart between economy and premium economy and business class; the third option way out of his financial league. About half hour later, he pulls away from the laptop, his brain spinning with unresolved decisions about the trip to his father's funeral.

XXXXXXXX

"Why do I always feel worried when I come into your office and see that look," Wilson comments mid-morning. "What happened?"

"Rowan died."

"You don't seem as happy as I would have expected. How'd Robert take it?"

"I hate seeing him sad. This time I was partly to blame for giving him the news; despite the fact that he asked for it."

"Is he going then?"

"He wants to," House huffs as he leans back in his chair, making no attempt to hide his computer screen as Wilson comes around and looks at what he's doing.

"House…"

"I know what I'm doing."

"I hope so," Wilson whispers as he looks at House, his hand resting on his shoulder and giving it a friendly squeeze. House watches his best friend leave and then turns back to the screen and goes back to reading the obituary write-up for Rowan Chase and merely shakes his head. His head leans forward in his hands as he rubs his face; his cell phone buzzing and for the first time in a while he actually is thankful for the distraction from Foreman. He pushes himself away from his desk and heads for the hallway; his mind trying to get back into the medical game but instead wondering how Robert was faring at home.

"Damn…" Chase groans as he tries to bend down to get the soap. But not being too sure of his balance without Bruno's support, he manages to slip trying to get back into the plastic bathing chair and lands hard on his side. His slightly throbbing head rests on the warm tile floor as the streams of warm water beat down upon his wet naked body.

"Don't…tell House," Chase huffs to himself as he tries to get back into the plastic bathing chair, finally getting himself up and in and just resting a few extra minutes before continuing. He had inwardly dared himself to try to stand without the crutches and the help of the bars but found he wasn't quite able and so resigned to the chair. He finishes up his shower and then pulls back to dry; getting himself dried and dressed just as House enters the apartment and locks the door.

"Robert?" He calls out gently as hears some rummaging in the bathroom.

"Just finished," Chase appears in the doorway in his wheelchair, the crutches held alongside.

"Did you try…"

"Tried and failed," Chase replies with a small grimace as he approaches and then stops, looking up at House with a soft frown.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Chase answers in falsehood as he pastes on a fake smile and tries to move past. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

House's brow furrows as he watches Chase disappear into his room; lingering in the hallway a few seconds longer before he heads for the kitchen and spies the open laptop on the counter. He looks up just as Chase appears in the doorway on his crutches.

"I um…thought I'd go to the funeral."

"Figured as much."

"I know he…"

"Robert if you want to go so you'll have no regrets later, then you should go," House nods as he slowly reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out and then hands it to Chase. "In fact…"

"What…" Chase's voice pauses as he looks at the all too familiar aviation logo and then slowly opens the flap and looks at the single, round trip ticket. "But…"

"But having said that…I want you to come back here where you belong," House states warmly as Chase looks at him with an adoring expression before looking back down at the location of his seat in business class; the price he knows is over several thousand dollars one way.

"House this…seat it…it's too much."

"Nothing's too much for you," House confesses in truth as his hand rests on Chase's back.

"Thank you," Chase whispers, his eyes looking down a few seconds before looking up to lock with House's. "This…this means a lot."

"If it'll make you feel better you can make it up to me."

"How?" Chase gently inquires.

"Stay with me…here…for as long as you want."

"Okay," Chase confirms with a nod as House's face breaks into a small smile. Chase turns and heads for the fridge, finally turning his back to House. "And while you…what?" Chase as pauses as he turns back to see House looking at him in wonder.

"You lied," House offers sternly as Chase tries to straighten up and looks at House in shock.

"About what?" Chase asks in haste. "House?" Chase calls out as he watches House pull away from the kitchen and disappear into the hallway. "What wa…"

"Take that shirt off right now," House lightly demands as he holds up the first aid kit.

"I'm fine."

"Your back is bleeding."

"It's actually bleeding?" Chase counters in genuine surprise as he maneuvers himself onto a nearby stool and slowly removes his shirt.

"What did you do to yourself young man?" House presses as he reaches for his glasses to see if anything had embedded itself in the scuffed flesh.

"I uh…fell," Chase groans as he shakes his head.

"You fell? In the shower?" House growls as he starts to clean the wound, uttering a soft 'I'm sorry' as Chase's back tenses and his lips utter a small gasp. He looks at the darkish mark on Chase's smooth skin and frowns; his mind picturing his duckling sprawled on the floor, writhing in pain with no one to help pick him up. "Next time call Bruno."

"I'm oka….oww. Did you do that on purpose?"

"Me?" House retorts as he finishes cleaning the wound and then gently places the bandage over it, touching the edges of Chase's tender skin before he reaches for his clean tee shirt, helping pull it over his head and taking comforting delight in the warn clean scent coming from the younger man a few feet away. "Better?" House asks tenderly.

"Much."

"Okay, let's eat then. You were saying earlier?"

"I baked. Carrot muffins," Chase declares proudly as he pulls out the small tray of House's favorite treat and holds them up. "Just because."

House looks at the heartfelt offering and feels his eyes wanting to water; his brain racing to give his lips a genuine thank you in return. The two of them talk a bit more about what things Chase was going to do when he went back to Melbourne; House giving him a bit more chastisement about not doing aerobics in the shower and House gluing Taub's good date shoes to his locker floor. Despite the fact that dinner is pleasant and upbeat and the movie actually tolerable; both minds were occupied with the events that would happen the day after tomorrow – Chase was going back 'home'. Not technically his actual home, but this birthplace and a place that had at one time, even for a short time, had been called home.

_That ticket…it must have cost…a fortune…_Chase's mind ponders as he lies in bed awake a few hours later. It was really happening. His birth father had died and his current would be father figure had spent considerable dollars for him to fly 23 hours in relative comfort. But at the same time, he was going alone. _ Course I couldn't ask House to spend that much on himself and buy two tickets, _Chase's mind contemplates as the night progresses. _Besides he hates my father._

But down the hall, another man was also awake pondering somewhat similar ideas. _What if he decides to stay in Melbourne? What if his friend asks him to be partners in his own private clinic? He would make a lot more and now without daddy's money that might be tempting. _He thinks about Chase travelling alone and his heart starts to ache; especially as he remembers looking at the ugly cut and bruise on Chase's back and then pictures Chase getting into trouble and asking for help with no one wanting to lend a hand. But he had made a promise to himself that he would buy the round trip ticket, wish Chase a safe trip and then pray he came home safe and sound.

The following day was emotional hell for both.

XXXXXXXX

"You got everything you need?" House asks softly as he slowly enters Chase's room the day of Chase's flight.

"I think so," Chase replies as he zips up his medium sized suitcase. "It's still going to be…tricky."

"Valet at the airport and hotel will help with that," House replies as Chase looks at him with a soft frown. "Let's go before I really do chain you to the bed."

Chase's lips offer a soft smirk as House takes his suitcase and he follows him into the hallway and then toward the door to head toward the elevator. "Will be quiet for a few days around here."

"I should have recorded your voice before you left," House quips as he pulls his phone and presses the record button. "Duckling act one, take one."

"Uh…don't eat all the carrot muffins in one sitting," Chase smirks as House presses the stop button, pauses for a few seconds and then starts it again. "I'll miss papa duck?" He concludes with a softer smile as House's finger presses the button to stop and he offers Chase a warm expression.

"Let's go."

They both get into the cab and make small talk on the way to the airport; House not telling Chase about the surprise that was waiting. But as they near the international departures drop off; Chase looks at the two familiar faces waiting for him and can't stop his lips from curling upward.

"You can't escape down to Oz without saying goodbye right?" Bruno extends his hand and helps Chase from the back of the taxi, the driver already having the trunk popped and House retrieving the crutches. The four of them slowly walk toward the counter for Chase to check in; the airline telling him his suitcase would already be sent ahead to security.

"Man you know the flight's gonna be long right?" Bruno asks as he and Chase pull ahead slightly.

"You never cease to amaze me. The ticket?" Wilson questions.

"I had to make sure he comes back," House sighs as his gaze rests on Chase's smiling face and then over at his best friend. "I…I just do."

"He will. This is where he belongs right?"

"That's exactly what I told him," House grins as Wilson looks at him in shock. The four of them head toward a small lounge just before the security check in and enjoy a coffee and some travel conversation before its time to get up and finally part. Bruno takes his leave first, giving Chase a hearty hug and telling him when the young doctor was back that they'd go and see a movie and just hang out; something that delighted Chase very much. Wilson was next, of course telling him to be safe and have a good flight but also to hurry back. House was last.

"Remember don't talk to strangers and no going down dark alley's with pretty girls," House lightly warns as Chase's face softens. "Be safe," House whispers as he gives Chase a firm hug and then pulls back with a nod. "We're playing Twister when you get back."

"Deal," Chase replies with a contented grin. "I'll be back soon."

"Course you will or you'll be grounded."

"Yes dad," Chase playfully retorts as House's lips break into a wide grin. But the frown quickly returns as he watches Chase turn and slowly head for security, taking a bit longer as his crutches are inspected and then finally able to pass through, being told that his suitcase had been inspected and was heading to the plane.

Chase turns and gives House a small wave; both able to tell they were putting on a brave face for the sake of the other. But as soon as Chase eases himself down into a chair beside the entrance to the plane's gangplank, his heart starts to race with newfound anxiety, especially as he looks around at all the unfamiliar faces. _Suddenly I feel alone…more alone than I ever have. _He tries to tell himself the feelings are nonsense and he's just feeling vulnerable because he's on crutches; had he been up and about, it would be a whole other story. But the feelings only start to intensify as the call to board is made and he's helped by a stranger onto the plane – not House.

_Why am I going? _His mind ponders as he settles into his seat by the window; looking up as an older man gives him a friendly nod before easing himself down into the seat beside him. _I wish House was here, _Chase's mind laments. _The trip would be anything but boring. _

He had brought his tablet with a few e-books and some games for the nearly day long flight but knows that without much movement as soon as they land, his legs would need some massaging and he doubts he could just ask the hotel staff to do it. _Could always go to the spa, _his mind once again ponders as they prepare for takeoff. He recalls his friend's text from the night before, eager to get together to have coffee and discuss that still open business opportunity. But as he settles back in his chair his mind starts to replay his new would be family sitting in the airport lounge, laughing, talking, sharing coffee and bonding over mutual interests. _Could I really give all that up just for a job and a few dollars more? Sean and I aren't really friends. I'd be alone and miserable. _And that glum thought of him being alone, in a place that was now actually foreign to him, makes his heart sink and his facial expression droop.

A few hours into his flight, cramps start to settle in as expected and he ponders getting up and heading for the business class lounge or just sucking it up and enduring until they had landed._ Of course if House was here he'd make me get up and then yell at anyone who wanted to argue, _his mind smirks as he asks the stewardess for his crutches; a few minutes later thanking the man beside him for his assistance. Chase gives them both a small but somewhat embarrassed nod as he arranges himself and then slowly moves past, the tingling in his legs starting to yell at him for waiting so long before putting some movement into them. He reaches the quiet lounge and closes the door behind him; nodding to a couple playing travel chess before he slowly starts to move around, not having any intention of sitting down just yet.

He makes his way toward the back of the room looking at the pictures for a few minutes. But suddenly the door opens and a somewhat familiar reflection appears in the clear glass of the picture he's looking at and he can't turn around fast enough; hoping the apparition is actually real. It's not and his heart sinks once more. The older man, with some of House's facial characteristics gives Chase a nod before heading toward a small stand with books and magazines and some DVD movies and small players to be used for their business class passengers only.

_Half way through the flight and I'm already missing House, boy I'm needy, _his mind silently sighs as he feels himself starting to get tired from trying to balance on the unsteady surface so slowly heads toward the door and reemerges into the quiet business class compartment. He takes his seat, once again thankful for the support of the passenger and flight attendant before settling in for another few hours. _This cannot end soon enough._

By the time the plane finally lands, Chase is tired, sore and irritable; wanting nothing more than to retreat to his private hotel room and shoo away the rest of the world. Tired of every second person asking him what happened and if he was okay and needed help. House never treated him so but then maybe it was because he didn't have to ask, his brain correctly reminded him. Chase arrives at his hotel; already having called room service as he wanted nothing more than to flake out on his bed and stretch out for as long as possible.

Eating his meal alone for the first time in months, only serves to heighten his pangs of loneliness as his friend said he wasn't available until after the funeral due to a few family obligations. _Family. I have no family here. _He turns up the volume on the TV to keep the silence from closing in on him; wishing that House was there so they could watch something and make fun of the show being presented. Thankful that House had picked a flight that wouldn't screw up his timing that much, Chase slowly gets ready for bed; the funeral being the next day and his anxiety already heightened.

The few hours rest he manages to get are restless and fraught with tormented images of his father telling him he wasted his time in coming and that House wanted to get rid of him to have a few days peace for himself. The sun finally pokes its head into his hotel room to find Chase awake, arms folded under his head and his eyes looking up and staring absently at the ceiling.

But he had come for a purpose and despite his father's negative voice in his head, tells himself it's time to get up, have breakfast, get dressed and get the funeral over with. And that's just what he does.

XXXXXXXX

"Right here is perfect thank you," Chase thanks the taxi driver as the man takes his money and he readies himself to enter the modest funeral home. The car pulls away, leaving Chase standing on the sidewalk, nodding to a few as they enter the home to pay their final respects to the distinguished physician. Chase overhears a few things but has to bite his tongue from jumping in and refusing the claim that Rowan Chase was an honorable man. _He treated his family like crap! He only put on a guise of false concern. You are all WRONG! _But he mentally backs down and prepares to enter.

As soon as people around him, hear his name the whirlwind of social activity starts; what happened? Little Robert Chase? Where are you now? What do you do for work? Are you moving back? Are you married? Children? Private practice? And on it went for the next two hours, until Chase is left at the back, standing alone and looking at a picture of his father. He looks into the auditorium and frowns; the thought of walking up to the front alone, past all those people was now almost emotionally daunting. So with a heavy sigh, he hangs back and waits for as long as possible.

"Couldn't even have your family in the final picture," Chase mutters under his breath.

"You expected him to have honor at the end when he had none from the start?"

The question asked is somewhat biting but the voice all too familiar; Chase's heart threatening to do a small summersault at the thought that House was actually there. But he tells himself that, much like the plane it's merely a figment of his imagination and get to his seat already. House is not there.

However, as soon as he lifts his head he turns he utters a small gasp as he looks into a face he knows well. "House?" Chase asks in a soft whisper, his fingers wanting to reach out to see if the apparition before him is real.

"I'll pinch myself," House mentions in sarcasm. "Surprise," House replies as he looks at Chase's shocked expression. "Missed you."

"It's only been a day," Chase retorts.

"I'm needy," House smirks as his hand rests on Chase's back.

"When did you get here?"

"Just now," House tells him in truth.

"House..."

"Hush now this is where I belong. How are you holding up?" House asks in concern.

"Am tired already and I haven't done anything but stand here and talk."

"Well, let's get this over with and then go for a drink," House suggests as he gently guides Chase toward the entrance to the funeral home.

All the pent up anxiety that had been building inside his mind and heart had suddenly dissipated the moment he realized that House was actually there; at the funeral, at his side in another time of personal turmoil. He slowly eases himself down into the chair at the front of the modestly filled home and then looks at House who gives him a small but reassuring nod. Despite the expressed written statement in Rowan's will of not having Robert speak; Chase's mind takes the most comfort in the company of the man beside him during the somber service. In reality he didn't know what he'd say as he in part didn't know his father on an intimate basis and in truth he didn't have a kind or enduring thing to say; to get up and say anything kind would be a lie. So he takes the most satisfaction in knowing how much it would have burned his father to know that House had bought and paid for his expensive round trip ticket, was at his side and would now become his new roommate when they got back home.

After the service, House hangs back, allowing Chase to talk to a few more family friends, colleagues and well-wishers in general; all of them fooled by the guise that Rowan Chase had perfected in his son's absence over the years and Chase not having the time nor the heartfelt inkling to try to counter argue their ideals. At this point – when it was all over, he simply didn't care. He answered as simply as he could and hoped he could escape. It was working until…

"Robert."

"Sean."

The two younger men embrace, House settling into a bench outside to let Chase have his time with his old friends but secretly hoping that he'll blow off Sean and his business proposal and allow him to be Chase's personal chauffer for the rest of the day.

About an hour later, Chase steps outside into the warm mid-morning sun and spies House on a small bench across the street looking at him intently before he slowly heads toward him.

"So what's the plan?"

"Have no plan," Chase answers as with a small exhale as House helps him sit down on the bench; both of them facing the funeral home. "Sean he…he offered me full partnership at his private practice down here."

"Lots of moola," House quips, trying to sound casual but inside secretly hoping the discussion wouldn't be expanded upon.

"Yeah it is and if that was my only consideration I might have actually considered it."

"What was the real reason?"

"I don't belong here."

"Really?"

"Isn't that what you said?" Chase counters.

"You're not me," House retorts as he looks at Chase seriously. "I just wanted to hear _you _say it."

"I'd miss Cousin Bruno and Uncle Wilson and of course…you," Chase concludes with a small smile as House smiles in agreement. "But it was a tempting offer."

"How about I make you an even more tempting offer?" House suggests as Chase looks at him and nods.

"I'm intrigued," Chase goads.

"Show me around this god forsaken place and dinner's on me."

"Deal."

House tells Chase to wait while he brings the rental car around and tells Chase to get in. "Driving on the wrong side of the road takes some getting used to," House grumbles as Chase locks his belt and smiles. "You sure you are okay blowing off your buddy like that?"

"To be honest we weren't that close and am sure he'd just ask about my father and I'd have to lie and am tired of lying. I came, I paid my respects and now it's over. I don't want to spend the rest of the day talking about him."

"Proud of you," House tells Chase with a wide grin; Chase's lips unable to do anything but smile in return. "Where to first?"

"I…" Chase pauses as House looks at him in wonder. "It's about ten minutes from here. Turn left and follow the road until I tell you to turn."

House navigates down the foreign road, listening to Chase inform him about the surrounding area, the kinds of beaches around, the restaurants, the nightlife and of course if he'd spent time at any of them. Finally they reach the spot, Chase telling House where to park and the two of them getting out. The suit jackets, ties and dress shirts come off, leaving them both in undershirts and dress pants.

"Help me with my shoes?"

"Of course," House helps Chase take off his shoes, dumping them all in the trunk before they both carefully make their way down toward the private alcove overlooking the small secluded beach. "So what's this place?"

"Turn and look back at the red house. That was ours and this is where I'd come when I could escape that place," Chase confesses in a broken tone as House looks at him in remorse. "When I could get out of the library and the yelling or the drinking or the utter loneliness got too much I'd come down here, sit on this rock and dream I was in a better place. After that going back didn't seem so bad…well more like it was tolerable."

"Sorry," House mutters as he offers Chase a small frown. "Want to walk in the water?"

"I sure do."

The two of them head down to the water and walk a ways before House spies a small diner by the coast and gently steers Chase toward a table on the edge; both of them sitting down under the umbrella. They order a large seafood share platter, two pints of beer and some bread; once again sitting back and House listening to Chase tell him about what it was like growing up down under.

A couple of hours later, they slowly leave the seafood diner, heading back for the car and seeing a bit more of the area; Chase not wanting to admit it but wanting nothing more than to go to their apartment, listen to House regale him with something he did at work while they make dinner together. But House had paid a lot of money and spent considerable time coming all this way to support him, the best he could do is suck back his homesickness and play the role of good host. But if he was really honest, he was having a hell of a fun time playing tour guide.

"Well we've already had a shrimp on the barbee," House tries in his best Australian accent making Chase snicker. "See I sound like a local already."

"A natural. Let me pick the place for supper."

"Another childhood favorite I hope," House inquires as Chase nods in agreement. "Lead the way my dear wombat," House mentions as Chase looks at him in surprise. "Gotta stick with the local stuff right?"

"Right," Chase nods in agreement. About half hour later they pull up to a quaint restaurant and redressed, minus the ties both get out of the rental car and head inside. They are shown to a small booth; both easing in across from the other and Chase once again doing most of the talking, telling House stories about his strained childhood, a few other places he'd escape to and dream about a better life and becoming a great doctor like his father.

A few hours later, supper is over, both are satisfied and finally leave the restaurant and head back to the hotel; the sun already set and both tired out from the long day; House even more so from the long flight and being up nearly two full days in a row.

"I call the right," House lightly laughs as he notices the right bed already claimed by Chase. "How are the legs?"

"Ready to be cut off," Chase groans as he literally flops down on the bed; sprawling out on purpose and making House chuckle at his silly antics.

"How do they feel?"

"Sore but that's how they should feel right?" Chase props himself up on his elbows as House tenderly massages the lower half of his legs; something Chase had wanted but didn't want to ask for. House looks in concern as Chase's face tries to hold back a wince but after getting a small shrug from Chase he carries on.

"So," House pauses as he leans down on the bed beside Chase, both staring up at the ceiling before looking at each other. "You've had quite the busy day young man, are you tired?"

"Will sleep very well tonight," Chase replies with a small smile, mixed with a yawn.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"You aren't tired of me playing tour guide?"

"I brought you a costume for tomorrow."

"Am afraid to ask," Chase chuckles as House grins.

"And after that?" House asks slowly.

"I want to go home; its where we both belong," Chase whispers as House's face breaks into a genuine smile; the one wish he had prayed for over and over had just come true.

They would be going back home together and then it would be the start of a brand new life for both of them together; Rowan Chase all but forgotten but being the catalyst they were now forming a new family. And just before darkness consumes him, House takes comfort in the ironic fact that he was falling asleep thanking Rowan for leaving the most important thing in the world in his care – his only son.

* * *

**A/N:** well how did you like the trip down under? Did you like House's surprises for Chase? First off buying him the ticket and then showing up for the funeral? They might have one more day down under together to just relax and spend some time hanging but then it's back home and back to a new start. Up next is probably going to be the ending so please do review before you go and let me know what you thought and thanks so much!


	25. Making a Brand new Start

**Title: A Necessary Burden  
****Chapter 25 – Making a Brand new Start**

* * *

House awakens early the next morning, blinking a few times to see Chase sitting up and looking toward the open window, staring absently at the clear blue sky peaking through the slits of the hotel curtains. He studies his clenched jaw and rigid posture and frowns; hoping that he doesn't have any second thoughts about staying down under.

Chase hears House moving in the other bed and looks over with a small smile. "Did I wake you?"

"Slept on the wrong side of the bed," House gently smirks before his expression turns serious. "What?"

"No one else at the funeral had any idea what kind of man he really was," Chase huffs as he slumps back down into his bed, his arms folding under his head as he glances over at House in anxiety. "I stood there listening to all of them praising his work and his legacy and I just…stood there silent. Told myself it wasn't worth the hassle to get into what kind of monster he was but maybe I should have."

"And that kept you up all night? You look tired."

"You would have said something right?"

"Like you said…it would have been a hassle. Your word against the lies they were fed all those years?" House counters as Chase slightly shrugs in agreement.

"He sends me a private letter, basically cursing my very existence, removing me from his will and everyone thinks he died a damn saint."

"Only you me and the lawyer know where the money went and the three of us are sworn to secrecy. Nothing was made public and you can be sure he did that to also maintain his saint image," House reminds him.

"And that makes it better!" Chase tosses back bitterly before his expression droops. "Didn't mean to raise my voice."

"I'm offended," House retorts casually as Chase glances over in wonder. "Unless you had proof of what he did in that apartment to show them and I don't just mean the letter, they would have believed the part about the will and claimed you were bitter and made up the other lies to try to ruin his good name because of monetary sour grapes," House explains as he props himself up on one elbow and looks at Chase in concern. "You staying here would only force your misery to grow as you'd be reminded about what a saint that bastard really was but couldn't do much about it."

"I don't want to stay."

"Just making sure," House nods as Chase's lips purse. "Well we have one more day and then the long flight back home. You okay to play tour guide again?"

"Sure. What do you want to see?"

"Whatever doesn't cause you pain."

"The mall?" Chase snickers as House shakes his head. "I'm not that mobile yet."

"You move around on those things pretty good. Should challenge you to a three legged race."

"How would I…" Chase starts and then stops as House grins at him.

"You shower yesterday?"

"Was afraid to. Pictured myself falling in the small stall and being stuck there until I died," Chase groans as House reaches for the phone. "House?"

"Well this place has to have a bathing chair right? Hush now," House lightly snaps as the phone comes to life. "Well it's not my fault you don't have one. Get one. Doctor's orders. Whose? Mine. Yes you have the room number and you have one hour. Thank you."

"Glad we're leaving tomorrow," Chase groans as he rolls onto his side and then pushes himself up to a sitting position. "We might come back to find our sheets and pillows missing."

"Hmm no pillow fight for tonight," House ponders as his right hand reaches for a pillow beside him. "Guess we'll start early," he utters in a serious tone as he sends the pillow sailing through the air to a very surprised Chase who tries to duck and ends up getting hit in the back with the soft mass of fluff.

"You seriously just threw a pillow at me?" Chase states in surprise as he reaches for the pillow only to be hit in the chest with another; looking over at House who tries to offer a serious expression. "And you tell me to behave."

"Where do you think you picked up your bad habits from?" House counters.

"Oh I know it's from you," Chase smiles as he tries to swing his legs over and reach for his crutches. "I like the flames by the way."

House watches Chase slowly make his way over to the window and pull the curtains open, their floor being up high enough for him to stand before the clear glass in just his pajamas and now worry who was watching.

"I wondered what I'd feel coming back here. I thought I'd be angrier or hateful but…but I think you're being here has helped. I didn't want to face yesterday alone," Chase humbly admits, his back still to House. He remains where he is a few more moments before House's hand rests on his shoulder and gives him a tender but reassuring squeeze.

"I wasn't going to let you face that alone. But I wasn't going to keep you on a leash either. In truth. I did miss you." A brief knock at the door breaks the mounting silence as House pulls away to open it before Chase can offer anything in surprised reply.

"Someone asked for a plastic wheelchair?" The bellhop asks in confusion.

"Bathing chair," House groans as he drags the cleaned apparatus inside. "Perfect timing."

"We actually had one here."

"Course you did," House simply adds before he closes the door and then turns to face his duckling. "Ready to get hosed down?" House quips.

Chase's lips can't help but snicker as he nods and heads for the chair; having already requested a bathroom with a handicapped entrance to the shower stall, one big enough for a wheelchair just in case. Course he had never expected House to be there to help him but was grateful he didn't have to face standing on his own and then possibly falling and hurting himself.

Once Chase was stripped and seated, House pushes him into the bathroom and pulls the door open. "Let's have some fun," he offers with a rather sinister laugh, making Chase look up in worry. "You're in good hands…trust me," House assures him as he hands him the bar of soap.

XXXXXXXX

About an hour later, both House and Chase emerge into the hallway, dressed down from yesterday in shorts and light short sleeved shirts and ready for their last day of sightseeing. House reconfirmed to Chase once more that he didn't care what they saw just as long as it didn't force him to remain in a melancholy funk the rest of the day as that wasn't fair to either of them; House being determined to stick it to Rowan any chance he got. _I don't care if the bastard is dead I can still gloat I'm winning, _House's mind had started the day dwelling upon.

"You have this for breakfast?"

"You have made me eat worse."

"Snails?"

"You said they were…well something else," Chase snickers as the waiter returns. "My turn to order."

"My turn to be afraid. Very well but just remember I will get you back at lunch," House hands the menu to the waiter. "I don't take pity on my boy just because he's on crutches," House grins; Chase lightly shaking his head as the waiter looks at him in shock.

The two of them sit and enjoy their breakfast; House asking a few more questions about Sean and what things him and Chase liked to do together growing up if anything. But nearing the end of breakfast, it was House's heart that was starting to sag as he tries to process all the sorrow that young Robert Chase's childhood had consisted of – a drunken, distant mother; a mean, uncaring father; solitary time locked in a library; very few friends and multiple wishes for a better life with endless dreams about escaping his prison and just having fun at the beach or in the playground with other children. _No wonder he craves it now and seems to light up at the smallest amount of praise, _House's mind correctly surmises as he pays for their bill and both of them get up to leave.

"Ever surfed?" House asks as they slowly meander down a road alongside the ocean; Chase's gazed fixed on a group of surfers in the distance.

"Sure," Chase replies with a small nod as House brings the car to a stop so Chase can watch them a bit longer. "When I was in high school a few of us would come down here when our homework was done. That was before real life got in the way," he sighs heavily as he rolls the window all the way down, folds his arm on window ledge and rests his head on his arms, his eyes fixed on the men in their dark wetsuits in the distance. "When I was on top of that board…even for a few minutes nothing else seemed to matter. My father called it a stupid waste of time; time I should have spent reading. I was sick of reading and just wanted to feel…free," Chase rambles on as his face relaxes despite the tense memory. "He could never take that away from me. Yeah…it _was_ fun."

"You know you will be off those things in a few weeks at this rate," House reminds Chase as Chase keeps his gaze fixed on the frolicking surfers a bit longer before he pulls himself back in and silently cues House that it's time to go. They drive on a bit longer until they reach another beach side diner and get out, slowly making their way down toward an open table and waiting for their menus to arrive.

Chase tells House a bit more about the area they are having lunch in, House just content to listen to Chase talk to his heart's content; never boring in the stories he's being told. Chase had asked him a few times if he was getting bored something to which House at first was taken back by but then reasoned that he was probably told from a young child not to bore an adult with something unless it was relevant to the task at hand; then it was be seen and not heard. It accounted for Chase being so private in public but then blossoming in private when given the opportunity to open up without fear of reprisal.

"This sand is very hot," Chase lightly groans as they walk on the beach about half hour later, having left their shoes on a rock alcove that they would pass on the way back to the car.

"Good for your feet. You can go in the water if you want," House suggests with a small nod as the waves gently lap at Chase's feet right near the shoreline.

"No this is good," Chase answers as he pulls back. "I'm starting to sink and might get stuck here," he lightly smirks as the end of one of the crutches makes a sucking noise as Chase pulls it back out of the soft sand. "Maybe I'll end up in China."

"Canada."

"What?" Chase looks up in wonder. "You know as a kid you say you always wanted to dig to China."

"We're already at the bottom of the globe," House snickers. "You'd be going back up. Canada. Remember everything's reversed here."

"That…doesn't make sense," Chase chuckles as he tries to pull the crutches back out of the murky sand, not realizing he had lingered too long and within seconds finding himself falling to the wet sand, landing on his hands and at first his knees before his legs give way and he slumps down onto his belly.

"Ah damn it," Chase lightly curses as House hurries to help him get back upright.

"Did you hurt yourself?" House asks in concern as he looks at his lightly sand scuffed knees.

"Just my pride, does that count?" Chase counters with a sour note before his face softens. "I'm okay." House helps Chase get back onto more solid footing before he lets go and starts to brush off the wet sand as best he can. "Damn sand…gets in all the cracks," he lightly huffs as House looks at him in amusement.

"At this rate by the time we get back to the car you should be almost completely dry and the sand should brush right off. Except for the stuff in the cracks. Which you'll hafta get out yourself," House snickers as Chase groans.

"You know my knees held me up for a few seconds there," Chase states with a hint of hope in his tone.

"You wanna try Twister when we get home?" House playfully goads as they near the car.

"I think one of these days I'll just agree without knowing what I'm really saying," Chase chuckles as he slowly eases himself down into the front passenger seat. While he waits as House stows his crutches in the backseat and then closes the door; his mind can't help but think back to another morbid memory where also scuffed his knees on an important outing.

_'Are we really going to the zoo mummy?'_

_'Your father is paying for the passes for a few business partners and there are two left over so we're going. But I want you to be on your best behaviour. You are to be seen and not heard understand? Do not ask for anything extra and do not expect your father's attention. He's busy with some very important people.'_

_'I won't mum I'm just so happy to be going. Never been to the zoo before.'_

_'You'll wear your good runners and if you get them wet you'll have to keep them on all day is that understood Robert?'_

_'Yes.'_

But the outing didn't turn out as he had planned. His mind pictures his small smiling face the morning of the zoo outing; how he got himself dressed without fuss, rushed to the hall closet and got on his good runners and jacket and then hurried to the window to wait. He stood and stared out the window at each passing car, wondering which was going to be his fathers and when they'd be going to the zoo. His face soon turned downcast as he figured his father wasn't coming but then quickly brightened a bit later when a car stopped in front. It wasn't his father but he remembered just being so happy to be going he didn't complain. However, when he got there, his father paid him no heed; merely introducing his wife and son who were soon left behind to wander on their own, Chase being reminded to be quiet and not bother her with useless questions. Just as they were nearing the end of the zoo outing, Chase had spied his father and wanted to rush up to him and tell him all the amazing things he saw. But just as he got there, he tripped and landed in a puddle on his hands and knees; ruining his runners and scuffing his knees. All his father said as he walked past was, '_you ruined your good runners Robert. I'm very disappointed,' _and kept going; leaving him for his mother to collect and sending them both home in a cab; Chase's happy day ending in misery.

"Robert?" House's warm voice pulls him from his morbid thoughts, Chase not even aware that his eyes had automatically welled at the sad memory. "You wanna go back and change?"

"No I'm fine," Chase stammers as he tries to clear the morbidity away for good. "My crack can wait," he tries to laugh; wanting to once again deflect his own inner misery with an outer joke, something House no longer falls for. House looks at him with arched brows as Chase slinks back into his seat, casting a furrowed brow out the window. "I don't have very many happy memories from here."

"We're making some now," House reminds him in a tender tone.

"Okay so you telling the waiter he looked like Mel Gibson doesn't count."

"Well he's Australian right?"

"The man was black," Chase deadpans as House grins.

"He still kinda looked like him," House shrugs as he starts up the car. "Come on, let's see…"

"House…"

"I don't expect you to come back to a place filled with sorrow and misery for the sake of that evil bastard's funeral and pretend like nothing is going to affect you. I know you'd be lying if you said you were okay all the time down here," House reminds him pointedly but in a kind tone. "I know your sorrow comes from remembering the bad times and you're not ruining anything for me. I hate to see you sad but I know I can't stop it and it has to run it's course. If you wanna talk I'm here, if not then we'll keep going."

"I am having a good time playing tour guide," Chase turns back with a genuine smile.

"That's better. Now where to?"

"Okay up a head is a place…"

The rest of the day is spent exploring a few more places before they head back to the hotel, Chase wanting to have another shower to get rid of all the sand before they dress for dinner and head down to the restaurant one last time. Upon their return, they watch a bit of TV, laughing at the Australian local low budget horror film before the days events finally take their toll on Chase and he rolls onto his side, on his bed and falls fast asleep.

House looks at the younger man in the opposite bed and allows his mind to dwell upon some of the sad memories Chase had told him throughout the day; his anger for Rowan swelling before he quickly reminds himself that in the end he had indeed won and he was taking his beloved duckling back home tomorrow where he belonged and Rowan was dead and never coming back to torment his son again and he hadn't succeeded in splitting them up.

"Goodnight Robert," House whispers as he turns off the light and succumbs to the darkness.

XXXXXXXX

"Think I'll have to do a strip search this time?"

"You had to last time?" House asks in shock as they both slowly head for the security line.

Chase offers a small laugh as they file into line and wait their turn; House's cane of course getting a bit of extra attention but Chase's crutches the most; House helping him into a nearby chair as they are carefully inspected to make sure they weren't hiding any concealed weapons.

"Now he looked like Mel Gibson."

"He's Asian," Chase retorts in sarcasm as they head for the waiting area until they are called for priority pre-boarding. During their hour long wait, both of them take turns making comments about the people nearby, the Asian Mel Gibson and why now everything tasted like shrimp to House. Finally they were called to board, House taking Chase's small carry-on backpack and slowly following after him down the plank and up into the front of the plane, both of them settling into their seats in Business Class for the long trip back. As on the flight there Chase takes the aisle seat as it would be easier for him to get up and get his crutches; this time with House's tender assistance instead of a strangers.

"Even shrimp on the menu. You know there are other things to put on a barbeque," House quips in a tone that makes a few look at him and Chase's face slightly redden. "Anything you want it's on me. Drunken duckling?" He asks, it already being well into their trip and the food service about to start.

"White wine?"

"You're underage."

"You offered," Chase playfully argues back. The two of them talk a bit more about whatever Australian wines were on the menu and how in House's mind they were really fake compared to American wine; Chase interjecting that all the best wines come from France.

After supper House watches Chase's head starting to loll forward, his hand reaching out and gently guiding it so it rests on his shoulder as he leans to close the gap between the seats. When he's satisfied that Chase is comfortable, he opens his book, puts on his reading glasses and enjoys a bit of reading time to himself; his mind and heart finding some comforting it the peaceful rhythm coming from Chase's lips.

About an hour after that, Chase finally starts to stir awake and looks up at House with a sleepy smile before he stretches in place and then frowns; his body calling for a bit of relief.

"Need to walk?"

"I need new legs," Chase groans but nods at the same time. House helps Chase get ready first and then slowly follows after him toward the lounge area, where a larger, members only washroom was waiting.

"I'll hit anyone with my cane that tries to disrupt you," House reminds Chase who merely nods and then tries to get himself into the small lavatory without making too much of a disruption. Chase reemerges a few moments later, takes his crutches and then both he and House head for a small table in the quiet lounge to play some cards to help pass the time.

"I really miss home," Chase comments after they had settled into their seats, ready for dinner service. "I miss your cooking."

"You don't like salt coated cardboard?" House counters in sarcasm. "I miss home too."

After supper is over, both of them fall asleep for a few hours, before waking and talking about the lame movie being offered and what they were going to do the following day; Chase telling House that he was now eager to get back to work, on the team and feeling useful again. The plane finally touches down and Chase's agitation finally settles as they retrieve their luggage and head for the outside, Wilson waving to them as he nears. He gives them both a hug and tells them that Bruno had wanted to be there but his mother had fallen and he had to tend to her first. On the ride home, both House and Chase regale Wilson with tales from down under; including the stories of all the pseudo Mel Gibson lookalikes.

"Home sweet home," Chase utters wearily as he literally flops down on his bed as soon as enters his room about an hour later. House offers Chase a firm nod as he continues on to his own room; the long day's tiring events both taking their toll on the weary travelers. Each of them asleep within half hour of the front door being closed and locked.

XXXXXXXX

"You look…surprisingly rested," Wilson mentions to House the next morning as he slowly enters his office. "Thought you'd be more jet lagged."

"Looks can be deceiving," House groans as he looks at the clock on the wall. "Robert was still asleep when I left."

"I know you were all PC yesterday but how was it? How was he?"

"He was a wreck most of the time and I couldn't fault him at all. Listening to all those lies at the funeral; he held it together better than I would have," House sighs heavily as he leans back in his chair and looks up at Wilson with a wistful expression. "I'd tell Rowan to drop dead again but my efforts would be wasted. Sadly you can't die twice," he growls with a small hiss. "Nine out of ten memories were depressing and the tenth was when he would escape home and dream of a better place," House pauses as he looks at a picture of him and Chase on his computer screen that he had downloaded from their trip. "But I don't know what I would have done if he had decided to stay there."

Wilson hears the tension in his best friends tone and knows House would have suffered, an almost inoperable emotional setback if the younger doctor Chase had decided to stay down under. Thankfully he didn't. "Well from what you said yesterday, it sounded like you had at least a bit of fun."

"We did and I'll update the family album at lunch," House smiles as he slowly stands up and presses a button on his computer to lock it. "First carrot muffin's on me."

"Carrot? You don't like carrot."

"I don't mind it now," House pats Wilson on the back as they exit the quiet room.

"He really has affected you…for the better," Wilson states with a warm smile.

XXXXXXXX

"Hey man so you're back to reality now?" Bruno greets Chase with a warm smile as Chase slowly enters the quiet rehabilitation room; giving Noel/Carl a nod before he carries on.

"It's good to be back," Chase grins as he gives Bruno a hug and then rearranges himself back on the crutches and follows after Bruno as they both sit down at a nearby table, Chase already tired from trying to do too much and still adjusting back to the horrendous time change.

"How was it down there?"

"Didn't bring back a lot of happy memories," Chase replies in truth as his right hand absently fondles his hair. "I didn't have many and the funeral just magnified my misery. But House came and…"

"Wow Dr. House actually came down there for the funeral?"

"He did," Chase answers with a warm smile. "It was one of the most amazing things anyone has ever done for me. I know it must of cost a lot but…"

"Ah it wasn't about the money right? For him to do that just showed how much he really does care. That's cool," Bruno tells him in truth. "So what are the girls like down there?" Bruno asks with a wide grin as Chase offers up a warm chuckle. Chase tells him more about the trip and said that House would be posting some pictures on his Facebook page and to check them out. Bruno's next appointment comes in and Chase feels a small pang of solitary melancholy as he as he bids his friend farewell, a promise to see him again for their new would be family ritual – Sunday dinner.

"How's cousin Bruno?" House asks later that evening as Chase sits at the table, working on making a fresh salad and House hovers over the stove working on a beef stew.

"His new patient's name is Zen and he's anything but," Chase replies with an amused chuckle as House turns and smiles also.

"Zen?"

"And guess his favorite hobby?" Chase continues. The two of them settle in to dinner, Chase finishing his story about his trip to see Bruno, having a proper standing shower in the physio showers with Bruno's help and seeing him at Sunday dinner. House tells him about Wilson's mishap in the cafeteria, something he had nothing to do with and then pulls out his laptop and shows Chase the pictures he posted along with their captions.

Chase's eyes fix on one specifically; a picture of him and House by the beachside, House's arm around his shoulder giving him a protective hug and aptly titling the photo 'me and my boy'; a sentiment that forces a small lump of emotion to well inside Chase's throat so that he remains silent for a few seconds before he clicks the share button and links the picture to his own page before continuing. About half hour later, the lights go out and silence starts to engulf the now quiet apartment.

XXXXXXXX

"So you feel like doing some light duties?" House asks Chase the following morning.

"The place can't get much cleaner can it?"

"And you can't play painter until you lose those crutches," House reminds him in truth. "I promise no pranks until you are back full time."

"Ah a tempting incentive."

"Do I detect sarcasm in your tone young man?" House counters as Chase grins and nods. "Scouts honor."

"I know you were never in the scouts but I think it's a fair deal. But you think I can only come back to modified duties? I am a workaholic you know."

"The bus leaves the same time every day right? You miss the bus and I'll make you walk home."

"I believe you would," Chase answers in sarcasm as he ponders House's offer. Even some clinic hours would be better than sitting around an empty apartment, especially now that he was well on his way to walking; a few more weeks and he'd be free of the crutches and back to normal.

"Maybe some clinic hours?"

"Foreman will have a heart attack that you actually suggested it without him having to resort to begging. He's gotten much better at it you know," House states matter of factly.

"Sounds good," Chase nods as he starts to make them both some toast. And within half hour both were heading for the bus, House having the time to ride with Chase this morning but Chase knowing that might not always be the case.

"Okay play nice with the other children at recess," House playfully warns as both of them walk through the entrance to PPTH.

Chase watches House head for the elevators before he starts to make his way toward the right, heading for the clinic areas.

"Welcome back Dr. Chase," Foreman greets him with a friendly smile and pat on the back as he wasn't about to break Chase's stride and offer his hand.

"Feels…odd almost," Chase gently smirks as they near the entrance to the clinic.

"I was a bit surprised by you actually offering to take up clinic hours. Is it because they're set?"

"You've been hanging around House too long," Chase answers with a nod. "Is that going to be a problem?"

"With you volunteering without me having to beg?" Foreman counters with a surprised expression. "No problem at all. Might be for you in a few days when you're itching to get back to diagnostics. Real medicine as House puts it."

"Well he does seem to know us right?"

"And that is unnerving at best," Foreman answers. "You need anything let me know."

"I will thanks."

"Good to see you up on your feet again."

"Good to be back," Chase confesses in truth.

Chase watches Foreman leave before he heads for the front desk, telling the clerk he'll be ready to accept patients in about fifteen minutes as he just wanted to get settled and familiar with the layout once again. He reaches for the lab coat and holds it for a few seconds as his mind flashes back a few months prior to when he was heading for the patient's room that would forever change his life – literally. He remembers the surreal feeling of being stabbed, Adams hovering over him as she literally fought to save his life; lying in the bed feeling alone and then utterly surprised when his uncaring father first visited and then House took him home to help him heal. They had come such a long way since then and if anyone had told him he would be happily living under House's roof, considering the older man as the father he never had; being blessed with new friends and a new outlook on life he would have called them crazy. But now…now his biological father was dead, he was back on his feet doing the job he so loved and given a second chance to start new and make things right – for himself. It was a chance he was going to take with both arms open.

"Dr. Chase?" The clerk's voice pulls him back to reality. "You ready?"

"I sure am. Let them in."

XXXXXXXX

"How was your first day back?" House asks later that night after they had both ridden home on the bus and were now working to make dinner.

"Tiring but productive," Chase answers in truth as he hands House a bottle of wine. "And yours? What trouble did you cause?"

"Me? I never cause trouble," House answers in mock seriousness as Chase arches his brows and gives him a look of disbelief. "Okay fine so I caused a _bit _of trouble. Course it wasn't my fault. Taub and Park…" House's voice rattles off as he launches into another work tale that involves of course a complicated case but House always interjecting some of his own brand of medicine to keep his team on their toes and of course forever cursing his good name.

After supper they both retire into the living room to watch something lame on TV, taking turns snatching the remote from the other and making snickering comments about the show the TV station dared to display. The next few days were virtually the same; Chase getting back into a working routine, getting up at a regular hour, sometimes having breakfast with House but if they had to start their day separated, House tried to make sure they ended it sharing a meal and discussing the events of the day.

"You are actually bringing that out?" Wilson groans as he, House, Chase and Bruno sit around the dining room table at House's apartment for their newly formed ritual of Sunday night dinners.

"Dr. Chase can't play Twister yet."

"Don't be fooled, he'll hit you with his crutches to garner a win."

"You saying I play dirty?"

"Look who you're living with?" Wilson retorts in sarcasm as House grins and nods.

"Anyone?"

"No!" Three voices speak in unison before laughter ensues.

XXXXXXXX

"You're seriously going to film this?" Chase asks House early one Friday morning a few weeks later. He had progressed to the point where he would not longer need the crutches and House was about to film him taking his first steps.

"My boys about to walk," House chirps as he gets ready to record. "I promised I'd be here for this important milestone right?"

"Okay," Chase nods as he readies himself, firmly planting his feet on the ground and steadying himself as Bruno had shown him, putting his weight on his legs but having the crutches nearby just in case. His legs start to really tingle at first but his fear isn't as heavy as he feels them holding steady instead of wanting to give way.

"I had a nightmare that I was carrying hot soup when my legs gave way and everyone just laughed."

"To hell with everyone, now drop the crutches and walk to daddy," House playfully goads as Chase merely purses his lips but says nothing.

Chase's hands start to pull away the crutches, his heart mildly racing as he takes a deep breath and then leans them up against the nearby counter, House's hand pushing the record button but still ready to rush in in case Chase would take a tumble. He doesn't.

"Feels…weird," Chase half whispers as he slowly walks toward House with a smile. "Look I'm walking."

"I'm so proud," House smiles as he records Chase a bit longer before his expression turns serious. "Any shooting pains?"

"A few in my feet but I've felt that before when I take my showers."

"Ah yes now you'll be showering alone."

"Oh I'll always have ducky with me," Chase smiles as he heads back for the crutches and gathers them up. "Walking again."

"Next you'll be running," House offers with a mock sigh. "Now where are my electrical plug protectors?"

Chase offers him a small chuckle as he heads for the closet and carefully stows the crutches away; wanting to keep them as House had purchased them specifically for him and now held sentimental value. But just before he closes the closet door he turns to Chase with a frown.

"What?"

"Close your eyes."

"House…"

"Don't make me get the blindfold," House sternly warns as Chase quickly closes his eyes. A few moments later Chase feels something firm in his hands and upon getting whispered approval from House to open his eyes, gazes upon a brightly colored surfboard.

"What?" Chase asks weakly as he looks at House who offers a warm smile.

"Nothing that makes you happy is a stupid waste of time," House tells him firmly. "Always remember that."

"Thank you doesn't seem enough," Chase mentions with a small swallow.

"See you this happy is reward enough. Now since you're not ready for that yet and summer is still a few months away, get your coat and lets go for lunch."

"You have work today," Chase carefully reminds him. "Unless…you wanna skip?"

"Thought you'd never ask," House answers with a smile as they both head for the door to get their jackets, House giving Chase a comforting squeeze around his shoulders but reminding him that this was also the first day walking and he wasn't to overdo it; they'd come back home for supper. Something that suited Chase just fine.

XXXXXXXX

"Uh hello…is Bruno home?" Chase asks the next day, Saturday afternoon.

"Robert? Hey man what's going on…where are…you're free of the crutches! That's awsome," Bruno states happily. "When did you get your walking papers?"

"Yesterday. You um…busy?"

"Not really. You wanna go running?" Bruno playfully teases.

"Not really," Chase lightly chuckles as he pulls out two tickets. "You like football right?"

"No way man really? You got us tickets? Wait…today?"

"Is that okay? Sort of a small thank you for everything you did for me. I'm here today thanks to all your help. So if you want…let's go celebrate," Chase suggests somewhat nervously; hoping he wasn't being too presumptuous.

"Man that's fantastic. Let me get my jacket. Ma I gotta run!"

Bruno comes back with his jacket and both of them head outside, Bruno offering to drive but Chase insisting he was okay and this was his treat. The two of them head for the stadium, laughing and talking, ordering fake food and overpriced beer as House had teased, enjoying the game and each other's company. After that it was out to the bar to continue the night with some more beer, wings and some burgers, Chase telling Bruno about House's surprise and Bruno telling Chase more about Zen's un-zenlike behaviour; Chase returning home late that night happy and satisfied.

"Have fun last night?" House asks as Chase stumbles into the kitchen Sunday morning, smiling at the smell of sizzling bacon and freshly ground coffee already percolating.

"A lot," Chase answers in truth as he pours himself a mug of steaming coffee and goes about making some fruit for the pancakes; launching into a retelling of all the events of the day before that he and Bruno shared together and how for the first time in his life he finally had a friend his age that he was happy and excited to know; House of course delighted at seeing his precious duckling so happy and content. _Course Bruno was my idea, _his mind snickers; shooing away Wilson's groaning silent rebuttal.

The two of them enjoy their breakfast, taking turns as per their norm in reading the paper's headlines and either discussing or mocking whatever they chose to entertain the other with. The rest of the day was spent doing chores that were not done the day before and then preparing for their weekly Sunday dinner; another meeting that saw Wilson once again refusing to play Twister but House triumphantly declaring that his hesitation meant House was wearing him down and one of these days they'd all be on the floor trying to force the other to fall first.

"You ready for tomorrow?" House asks as he sits at the edge of Chase's bed and looks at him in concern.

"First full day back on the team. I'm ready."

"Just don't overdo it," House mentions as Chase looks up in surprise. "I'm allowed to show concern in private," he quickly qualifies, earning a knowing nod from Chase. "Time for bed," House tells Chase as he places the rubber ducky on the table and pulls the blanket up to Chase's shoulders, Chase smiling at the small toy he had grown fond of seeing.

"Goodnight Robert," House lightly whispers as he turns off the light and prepares to leave.

"Goodnight…dad," Chase whispers in return before he rolls onto his side, House's hand resting on his shoulder a few seconds as his lips twist upward in the dark.

House slowly heads for the door and pauses, glancing back and allowing his mind to travel back to the first night he had brought a severely wounded Chase home from the hospital, helping him settle into the same bed and looking at his rather defeated expression with anxiety and wonder. He had been dogged by Rowan for taking Chase away from the hospital but didn't care; knowing inside his mind, at the time, that this was the best place for the young man to heal. Over the past few months, it was his heart that had started to take over, directing his brain and allowing Robert Chase's presence to cement itself as a permanent fixture in his life, so much so, that he couldn't, or more likely didn't want to contemplate coming home to a home without him a permanent resident. He had told Chase at one time he was a necessary burden and then over the months had come to carry a few burdens of his own but toward the end came to realize the burden was something he _wanted _to bear and taking it away from him would have been tantamount to ending his life.

_'You care about him…maybe love him like the son you wished you had,' _Wilson had correctly uttered a few days back; catching another private moment of tender concern from a man who came across as so emotionally closed off and stunted to the rest of the world around them. But Robert Chase had performed a miracle; he had forced his way into House's heart and together they both found the caring father/son bond they both lacked from their own natural heritage and came together as a new family union. House needed someone to care about to make him human and Chase needed someone to care for him to keep him human. It worked. The bond was growing and although it would be tested was certain to not bend past the breaking point.

"My boy," House whispers as he slowly heads for his room, completely contented for the first time in his adult life; determined to keep that feeling for as long as he was allowed.

XXXXXXXX

Not surprised that House had beaten him to work, Chase slowly enters House's office to see the team, including Foreman and Wilson already waiting with happy smiles.

A large 'WELCOME BACK' sign hangs above the table and each take turns, Taub, Adams, Park, Foreman and Wilson, in welcoming Chase back to the team on a full time basis; telling him he was sorely missed and was needed to help keep House in line.

"Okay so play time is over unless we all want to hear about Adam's latest one night stand with Jenny."

"And it starts. His name was Jim!" She groans as she shoots House an evil glare; Foreman wisely leaving and Wilson telling House he'd better see him at lunch in once piece.

"Oh Dr. Chase," House calls out as the team starts to disperse and tackle their next case; everyone pausing as House walks toward them with a white coat in his grasp. "Slacking time is over."

"Right," Chase nods as he reaches for his coat, smiling at his name embroidered on the outside and reaching for the first sleeve. But as he tries to shove his hand toward the end he finds the sleeve sewn shut and looks at House with a small glare.

"Welcome back," House grins as he slaps him in on the back. "Scissors are in the top drawer. The longer you take the faster I dock pay."

Chase can only chuckle as Taub looks at him in misery. "Some things never change I see," Taub groans as he leaves House's office.

Chase looks back at House's desk and allows his eyes to linger on a small picture of him and House taken a few days ago and feels his heart settle. Never in a million years would have guessed that when he was first stabbed that over the course of events the last person he expected to step up and help is now the only person he wants to accept help from. House had shown him that it was okay, in private, to open up and let his guard down a little and that it would be reciprocated in full; not emotionally beaten back as his natural father had tried to instill in him. He had found tender and loving solace in House's fatherly protection and had come to cherish the moments they spent bonding together, mostly in private but sometimes in public as well. Despite the fact that his natural father had since passed, he no longer feared an empty void in his life or future as House was determine to keep it filled – for the both of them. For the first time in his life, despite it coming from the unlikeliest of sources, he felt loved and a real sense of belonging and no one was going to take that away from him ever.

"Chase?" Taub's voice pulls him back to reality.

"Actually some things have…" Chase smiles as he realizes he can easily bust through the false stitching, having his coat on within seconds and hurrying after the team.

"For the better."

**THE END!**

* * *

**A/N:** Wow we have reached the ending of this AU adventure (*sniff sniff*) ! I can't THANK YOU, my dear readers enough for all the amazing support and feedback for my first House story. It started as a one shot and just kept growing from there b/c of you all and ended at 25 chaps! I hope you like how our father/son bond has progressed from something almost of an obligation on House's part to look after Chase; directed at first by guilt to care for the young man but then as time went by finding himself wanting to care for him b/c of genuine loving concern. of course he showed most in private and despite this being AU we saw House on the show caring for (first Stacy and then Cuddy) in private so he does have it in him and I played that up. And am glad you all liked Bruno along the way and of course uncle Wilson has to be there right? so I hope you liked how this ended and yes I do have an idea for a sequel and a new angsty element that will try to cause trouble for our new father/son pairing and have lots of Bruno and uncle Wilson in it also. So please do leave me a final review before you go for the ending, the story in general (esp those that faved/followed but never reviewed-shame on you peeps hehe) and if you'd like a sequel and thanks so much!


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